The dockyard was in a state of feverish chaos and open disorder. People were all about but the gaunt ribs of new ships were not thronged with shipwrights and their sidesmen, the sawpits were deserted and the smithy silent.
Renzi was able to share a handcart for his sea-chest with one of the lieutenants at the price of pushing the creaking relic. The lieutenant was eager to be quit of Sheerness and saw no reason why he should not return to his family until the whole disgraceful episode was over.
They quickly crossed the marshes and left the noisy revelry of Blue Town behind. The lieutenant waited for a coach in the small hotel at the start of the London turnpike, but Renzi was not sure what to do. He had no plans after being so recently turned out of his ship; it would need some thinking about but, given the tumult and isolated nature of Sheppey, it was unlikely he would stay either.
The lugubrious landlord took a deal of gloomy pleasure in telling them of developments at Spithead as current rumour had it.
Such events did not greatly surprise Renzi: the wonder in his mind was that the seamen had not acted earlier, given the criminal neglect of their circumstances. That the mutiny was brilliantly organised, widespread and effective was the surprising element: could it be the work of Jacobin agents? However, with Robespierre executed there was a more sceptical cast to the power struggle now ensuing that probably didn't include such a hot desire to export their revolution — but without a doubt the French would be mad not to seize the opportunity to act against England. It was as grave a state of affairs as he had known, and the government would be well advised to act rapidly and decisively against the mutineers.
He had to speak to Kydd - that much was clear. Leaving his sea-chest, he walked back through the apprehensive inhabitants of Mile Town to the carnival atmosphere in Blue Town.
Outside one of the larger timbered hostelries in the high street a crowd was gathered, applauding two rabble-rousers. Renzi winced even though, at the distance, he couldn't hear the words, but the exultant roars that punctuated the speech did not leave much doubt over the nature of the harangue. He had to pass by to reach the dockyard in his mission to find Kydd, and glanced over the back of the crowd at the speakers. One was a dark, intense individual who appeared almost messianic in his zeal. The other was Kydd.
Rigid with surprise, Renzi stared at his friend while the other man declaimed against His Majesty's treasonable ministers.
A sailor whooped his approval next to him. 'Who are these gentlemen?' Renzi asked him.
'Why, that's the president o' the delegates, Dick Parker, is he. Th' admiral we calls 'im on account he berths in th' admiral's quarters in Sandwich.'
'And the other?'
'Ah, that there's Tom Kydd, mate off Achilles. Right ol' fire-eater he, faced down t' th' first luff.an' got him turned off 'is ship an' then got in wi' Dick Parker ter be his sec'tary, he havin' an education an' all.'
Struck dumb with astonishment, Renzi stayed until the speeches had run their course, then pushed into the crowd. 'Tom!' he called, unable to get through the jovial mob. 'Ahoy there, shipmate!'
Finally it penetrated. Kydd looked up from his conversation with a pretty woman. 'Nicholas!' he shouted, above the hullabaloo. 'Make a lane there, y' lubbers!'
Kydd was back in simple seaman's rig, white duck trousers, waistcoat and short blue jacket, and was flushed with the occasion. 'Hey, now! Nicholas, well met, m' fine frien'.
'An' this is Kitty, Kitty Malkin. She's walkin' out wi' me, lives on the hulks in as snug a home as any I've seen. Look, let's away fr'm here 'n' talk.'
Kitty flashed Renzi a shrewd look. 'Pleased t' make y'r acquaintance, sir.' She turned to Kydd and patted his arm. 'Do go wi' y'r friend, dear, I have some shoppin' to do.'
Renzi fell into step with Kydd. They found the road across the marshes relatively peaceful, and slowly walked together. 'Such a happenin' the world's never seen.' Kydd chuckled. 'Dare t' say that in Parliament they're rare put to think what t' do.'
'Er, yes, I'm sure that is the case,' Renzi said. 'But do you not think that Mr Pitt - under pressure as he is -would not in any wise tolerate a new mutiny just as the old one is at a crisis?'
Kydd's face darkened. 'That's not th' question. It is, do we stan' with our brothers in Spithead, or do we shamefully leave 'em t' the hazard all alone?'
'Of course, dear fellow, I quite see that — an expression of support is demanded at this time.' He allowed the moment to cool, then continued, 'You are assisting Mr Parker .. . ?'
'I am,' said Kydd, 'but not in a big way, o' course. He's got a mort o' work t' do, bringin' all th' ships together f'r the cause, some as are bein' fractious an' ill-disciplined.' He looked at Renzi direcdy. 'Dick Parker is a great man, Nicholas. A real headpiece on him. He's given himself t' the cause of his shipmates, an' that makes him a right good hand by me.'