‘How far is it?’ he demanded.
‘Oh, at the foot o’ the mountains, ’bout four miles, sir. I had to walk,’ Searle said apologetically. ‘I didn’t have the coin to hire a horse ’n’ trap.’
Swearing to himself, Kydd told Gilbey, ‘Stand down sea-watches. I’m going to fetch the rascal. Mr Searle will accompany me. Do you wish to come, Mr Renzi?’
As always, even a hundred yards into the land the air changed – from the sea where at least a zephyr could nearly always be relied on to a still, enclosing heat, wreathed with the odour of dust and animal droppings. Kydd was thankful when the hired cart got under way and there was a breeze.
He waved away the inevitable flies, reflecting sourly that making even a single mile out to the open sea they would all vanish, defeated by the cleanliness of a ship.
But he was here because of Tysoe. It was not only the recollection of years of faithful service, but also the intolerable thought of his noble self spending the rest of his days as a plantation slave.
Beside him, Renzi said nothing, calmly observing the scrubby landscape. Kydd was darkly amused to see Searle sitting bolt upright, keeping ‘eyes in the boat’, as if with the captain in his gig.
The cart ground on until at last there was a hedge of sorts each side of the road, leading to the plantation Great House, a sprawling white edifice with a dark-varnished veranda and set about with blossoms.
They descended at the entrance and a white-clad houseboy appeared. ‘Captain Kydd to see Mr Thistlewood,’ Kydd told him, but a figure emerged from the house and pushed him aside.
‘I’m Thistlewood,’ snapped the thick-set man in leather boots and wide hat, his face hard and deeply tanned. ‘What’s your business?’
Kydd removed his hat politely. ‘I’m here to set right a little matter, if I may. I gave leave for my manservant to visit his parents and he’s failed to return. I wonder if you could-’
‘That’s this Tysoe, then. Surprises me it needs a Navy captain to come looking.’
‘Yes, that’s the fellow. Do tell him that we’re about to sail and-’
‘He’s not going back.’
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘He’s not about to leave here, cully. He’s my property and he stays.’ The man’s eyes narrowed and he folded his arms.
‘I think you may have mistaken his identity. He is-’
‘I know who he is – there’s no confusion. He found his parents. Then they all fell about weeping and the like. He’s their son, without any kind o’ doubt.’
Kydd shook his head in bewilderment. ‘Then if you know who he is, why can’t he return with us?’
Thistlewood gave a hard smile. ‘Seems to me you have a strange notion of slave law, Mr Sailor. That there is known as Quamino, a piccaninny born of slaves, right here in my father’s pen. The law says therefore he’s a slave himself, property of his master. There’s no going up against the law now, is there?’
Renzi spoke: ‘We happen to know they were manumitted years ago.’
‘You’re right.’
‘So he’s a free man.’
‘We’re talking his folks, not him. They’re free right enough.’
‘If-’
‘The deed of manumission. You want to see it? There’s Phibbah and Cuffee, no mention of Quamino. He were illegally borne off to be a page-boy well before they were freed, so by any law o’ the land he’s still a bound slave.’
It was all too clear. The casual handing over of one of the many plantation children those years ago had come back full circle to trap Tysoe. Thistlewood had seen his chance to acquire an accomplished house-boy to flaunt in planter society, and the law was on his side.
Frustration boiled up in Kydd. ‘I’ve a King’s ship wants to sail. You’re delaying me by this tomfoolery! I demand that-’
‘Nothing stopping you. Sail away.’
‘I won’t let it rest, sir! This is nonsense and you know it!’
‘I think not! Why, I see I’ve a case for damages. Yes – loss of earnings in a slave unlawfully detained for … let me see … thirty years? Your admiral is going to be pleased with you, he gets a lawsuit against the Navy that carried him off …’
It was getting nowhere. Despairing, Kydd said, ‘Well, er, I’ll buy him back.’
‘He’s not for sale. Now, I’m sure you’re busy chasing pirates or such, so I won’t detain you any longer.’
Kydd threw a beseeching look at Renzi.
‘Ah, then we’ll make our farewells,’ Renzi said smoothly, ‘with our earnest apologies for taking up your time. Come, gentlemen.’
Aghast, Kydd hesitated but Renzi was walking to the cart. Then he stopped and turned, with a disarming smile. ‘Oh, I’d forgotten. Just one small detail we’ll have to trouble you with. It shouldn’t take long.’
‘What detail? I haven’t got all day.’
‘Why, as secretary to the ship, I can’t have loose ends to disturb my captain later, can I?’
‘Get on with it.’
‘It’s the little matter of Tysoe’s oath.’
‘Oath?’
‘Yes,’ Renzi said, brow creased in a clerkly furrow. ‘You see, on enlisting in any ship of the Royal Navy a man has to swear to serve the King. Now, all I need is an affidavit signed by Tysoe that he no longer wishes to bear allegiance to His Majesty, this being countersigned in a release by his captain, and he will be free to take up duties with you immediately.’
‘He’s a slave, damn it. Has no right to go swearing oaths! He’s still my property and-’
‘Unfortunately, the oath was sworn, whether in error or no. And the one to King George may not be put aside. It has prior standing over any other in the kingdom. Why do you think deserters are hanged at the yardarm? It is because they have violated their oath to the sovereign. We don’t want that happening to your slave now, do we?’
‘God rot me! If every slave was allowed to enlist we’d be-’
‘They are not, Mr Thistlewood,’ said Renzi, clearly pained by his language. ‘This is why the law does disallow it.’
‘So-’
‘It is clearly stated that should a slave or apprentice, or any bound by law to a master, attempt to decamp by enlisting, then the master may on representing the case claim him back, with costs against the captain.’
‘Then-’
‘Providing he does so within the span of thirty days. Our muster-roll has no evidence that any such claim was made against the person of Tysoe. Therefore he was entered in full as a bona-fide member of the ship’s company.’
‘So you’re saying-’
‘Do present this man that we may hear the revoking of his oath. Then I’m sure Captain Kydd will be happy to initial his release – won’t you, sir?’
Thistlewood saw his answer on Kydd’s face. ‘I’m not letting him go – get off my property now or I’ll set the dogs loose,’ he snarled.
‘Oh dear.’ Kydd grinned. ‘It seems we have here an attempt to conceal a deserter. I do believe I’m quite within my rights to use lawful force to recover same. Mr Searle, go to the first lieutenant and ask him to land five hundred men – armed. I mean to arrest this villain.’
‘Aye aye, sir!’
‘Wait! I’ll get him – but I’m after compensation.’
‘For a piccaninny?’ Renzi said disapprovingly. ‘A child under the age of ten is considered a liability, not an asset, Mr Thistlewood. Rather, the Crown should be seeking recompense from you in the article of his bringing up. Now, does this mean we have to …?’
As L’Aurore heeled to a fine sea breeze Tysoe brought in their wine, as if nothing whatsoever had happened that day.
‘Thank you, Tysoe,’ Kydd said courteously, as he always did, but he didn’t fail to catch the glimmer of feeling that passed unacknowledged between them.
In fine good humour, he chuckled, and said to Renzi, ‘Topping it the lawyer, Nicholas. I didn’t know you had it in you.’
‘Ah, well, it was all I could think of at the time.’
‘Does it mean anything?’
‘Not as far as I know. I made it up as I went along – it seemed to fadge.’
It was raining. Not in the sense that an Englishman would recognise but a white mist drifting across the surface of the sea. It could be seen from the comfort of his cabin prettily stippling the water outside the sweep of his stern windows, while on the upper deck it would bring a pleasant cooling to the men on watch; the sun-warmed planking would be gently steaming and the lower edges of each water-darkened sail busily dripping along its length.