Caribbee(21)

‘You wan’ t’ know why I did it,’ he challenged.

‘Why, er—’

‘Wouldn’t unnerstan’ anyway, you swell coves born wi’ a silver spoon in your mouth. Get your place through family, y’r step through interest! Never know what it’s like to be a common jack looking aft, clemmed in a fo’c’sle with wharf rats ’n’ priggers, no hope for it ever.’ He drank again, heavily, then swayed, his head drooping.

Appalled but fascinated, Kydd had to find out what was driving him. ‘So tell me why, Rufus,’ he urged.

‘Wha’? Oh, nothing t’ tell, really. Always wanted to go t’ sea, call o’ the deep wha’ever. M’ father was a doctor, didn’t want me to waste m’ life on the briny, so I up an’ ran away to sea. Fetched up in a three-decker as landman, then t’ Medusa as ordinary seaman.’

So that was what it was! Tyrell had misheard Arethusa as Medusa and thought Kydd was bringing up his guilty secret, whatever it was. And, ironically, it seemed that not only was he from before the mast, as Kydd was, but thought that Kydd was not.

‘And then?’

‘Ah. That was our Cap’n Belkin.’ His thoughts wandered again but when they returned it was with a cruel smile. ‘A depraved brute an’ no one knew it.’

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘See, I knew what was going on, couldn’t fool me.’

‘Er, what—’

‘He shipped his fancy boy as a volunteer, the villain, an’ I hatched a plan. I broke in on them while he’s a-tupping. Ha! Should’ve seen ’em!’

He cackled, then went on, ‘So in course he has a choice. Public court-martial – or he sets me on his quarterdeck as midshipman.’

The carriage returned through deserted late-night streets, giving Kydd time to come to terms with what had happened. He’d left Tyrell when he’d passed out, going out of his way to reassure his flustered wife.

It was all so plain now: the doctor’s son of some education and standing had been smitten by the sea and had answered the call. He’d found life as a fore-mast jack a hard one and probably made it no easier by putting on airs, antagonising his shipmates. Then a chance had come to claw his way above them. In his later career as an officer, having claim to being a midshipman, he would not need to admit to earlier service before the mast any more than others would, including Nelson himself.

Kydd’s thoughts raced. Did he sympathise? If not, who was he to judge? And how far did what he had learned explain Tyrell’s brutal attitude to the common seamen, his prickly relations with fellow officers and misanthropic social behaviour? Guilt must play a part in his character, as would the need to prove himself, but Kydd could not see how such things could poison a soul so absolutely. Was there something else?

One thing he was sure of: Tyrell was an incomparable fighting seaman and for that, at least, he would give the man the benefit of the doubt.





Chapter 4




Their orders were delayed; in their place Kydd received a summons to a distracted Cochrane, who wasted no time in informing him of L’Aurore’s fate.

‘You’ll victual and store immediately. L’Aurore is to be attached to the Jamaica Squadron in exchange for Nereide. Clear?’

Kydd felt a pang of disappointment: he was doing well on the station – but the needs of the service …

‘Aye aye, sir.’

‘You’ll convey my dispatches to Admiral Dacres and I expect you to sail without delay.’

‘Sir.’

‘Oh, and I’ll relieve you of your junior lieutenant. I have a vacancy through sickness I must fill.’

Bowden.

It would be a wrench, for he’d known the young man since he’d come aboard the old Tenacious as a stuttering midshipman. They’d seen a lot together and he’d become a fine lieutenant who would be a credit to any ship. Now was not the time to object, though.

‘I’ve appointed another, whom you may have as he recovers, fit to serve.’

‘Then he’s in hospital, sir?’

‘Yes. I haven’t spare officers in my pocket, damn it!’

‘Very well, sir.’

‘Then I’ll not trouble you further. Good day to you, sir.’ Cochrane returned to his papers.

‘Sorry, sir, he’s already gone, like,’ the quartermaster said, as Kydd returned aboard, his regret clearly sincere. Bowden was well liked by the hands.

‘Thank you,’ Kydd said heavily, but it was the way of the sea service. ‘Any word from the shore, let me know directly.’

They were to sail within the hour but without a third lieutenant, and all that that implied for redistribution of men at quarters and divisions, as well as the obligation now of the first lieutenant to stand watches. Their replacement was still apparently in hospital, and when they reached Jamaica it was most unlikely that a spare lieutenant could be found.