Caribbee(70)

‘I know what I saw and heard.’

‘Yes, but he’s to mount an invasion of Curaçao as the only means he has to lay hands on the villains running your operation. The expense of such has to be justified to their lordships of the Admiralty later, of course, and to take up precious men-o’-war at this time is not a trivial matter, old trout.’

Renzi smiled thinly. ‘Quite. I do observe, however, that he is letting it be generally known that this is a strike for empire against the Dutch, and keeping quiet about the other. I’d like to think it’s a ploy to protect his intelligence source, but rather suspect it to be a way of keeping face should we fail in our larger object.’

‘You’re being hard on the man, Nicholas. With no other in support o’ your theory, can you blame him for steering small?’

‘Umm. So we are three frigates only?’

‘It will be four. Fisgard joins us here as soon as she can. While we could have ships-of-the-line, should we ask, we need frigates as can sail up the channel.’

‘Is that Aruba?’ Renzi said, looking at the island that loomed in the blackness.

‘A place of assembly only. One of your three Dutch islands with Bonaire. It’s a night’s sail from Curaçao – don’t want ’em dismayed before time. If they tumble to what we’re about, they won’t know which island we’re making motions towards.’

‘So, four frigates to set against an enemy who’s ashore with, I’m obliged to remark, a plenitude of forts and guns? It will be a singular plan indeed that sets sail against soldiers.’

‘Well, we won’t be long in the waiting. All captains will come together in an hour to hear of it.’

‘Aboard the saucy Arethusa?’

‘The same. Charles Brisbane. Never met the fellow, but heard he was with Nelson at Bastia, and not so long before we arrived, with Lydiard in Anson, took the Spanish frigate Pomona from under the guns of Moro Castle at Havana, a fine piece of work. Well trusted by Dacres, which is why he has this command.’

‘So – Arethusa, Anson, Fisgard and ourselves, no soldiers, no artillery, no horses …’

‘More than a match, don’t you think?’

It was with a twinge of envy that Kydd came aboard Arethusa.

This famous ship, subject of ballad and many a fore-bitter sea-song, was a heavy frigate and it showed. Besides guns half the size again of L’Aurore’s, her every dimension was bigger – length, beam, spars, anchors and accommodation. The grandest, Captain Brisbane’s own great cabin, was no exception and was furnished as to be expected of a successful senior captain with prize money to spare.

The man was tall and carried himself with a peculiar intensity, his eyes large and expressive. He was an impeccable host and quickly settled his guests to a small but well-planned supper.

Soon Kydd found himself reminiscing with the amiable Brisbane about Jervis, the irascible Lord St Vincent, while the older man brought to mind in an amusing way the Great Siege of Gibraltar so many years before.

He knew Lydiard of Anson, of course, and after giving a modest account of Trafalgar, he heard in return of him in an eighteen-gun sloop assisting a British warship in an epic battle against an enemy frigate that had ended when it finally struck. As luck would have it, it was recounted, when boats were lowered to take possession a damaged fore-mast fell and the French took the opportunity to re-hoist colours and make their escape.

‘Right, gentlemen,’ Brisbane said, as supper things were cleared away and a light Madeira was produced. ‘I rather think it time to talk about the morrow. This is not by way of a council-of-war but your acquainting with my plan, which, should it fail, will be my responsibility entirely.’

It needed saying: a council-of-war implied a shared liability. Brisbane was not a commodore and had no other authority than that of senior captain but was making it clear he was taking the burden for failure entirely on himself.

‘The first matter that we must touch on is—’

A distant wail of boatswain’s pipes sounded faint and clear. ‘Ah – that must be William now. Stout fellow, he must have cracked on sail quite unreasonably to be with us.’

He waited until there was a polite knock at the door and a pleasant, much-weathered officer appeared.

‘Ah, yes. Gentlemen – Captain Bolton of Fisgard, who cannot abide to be overlooked in the article of fighting.’

After introductions were complete, Brisbane resumed:

‘As I was about to say, I would have you under no misapprehension as to the main objective of this descent on Curaçao.’

There were puzzled looks and he went on quickly, ‘Which is, you’ll be surprised to learn, not to add further conquest to His Majesty’s dominions but for quite another reason. I have confidential instructions from Admiral Dacres that direct me to turn my best endeavours to the locating and extirpation of a secret base from which the French are conducting a species of guerre de course by naval means against our sugar trade.’