Seaflower

'I have no despatches, it is too dangerous.' He looked soberly at Renzi. 'I am not sanguine as to my personal survival, and it is a heavy concern to me that my intelligence die with me.'

Renzi said nothing, but feared what would come.

'I must now make all particulars known to you — under the strictest confidence that you can conceive, Renzi.'

'Yes, my lord.' A loathing of dissimulation made him unfit for the role of intelligence, Renzi knew, but there was little he could do to avoid this duty.

'It may happen that I am able to reach England - Deo volente - but if not, then I do require that you make known your intelligence to Mr Congalton at the Foreign Office by any means you can contrive.'

'I will.'

He coughed once and lay back. 'Every day lost racks at my soul. What are our chances of an early return to civilisation, do you think?'

'Sir, this is something for Captain Kernon to disclose, but I should not be hopeful of a speedy resolution.'

Stanhope groaned, whether in frustration or pain it was difficult to know. 'Nevertheless, do you please attend. Now, the essence of this Spanish plot is .. .'

Satisfied with his immediate steps in the situation, Kernon strode across the clearing to Lord Stanhope's shelter, to see Renzi emerging. 'Is Lord Stanhope at liberty to see me?' he asked.

'I do believe he will be more than happy to do so, sir,' said Renzi, 'but you will be aware that he is considerably out of countenance owing to his indisposition.'

Kernon entered, removing his hat. 'Sir, do you wish a report on our situation?'

'Thank you.'

'I have good news,' Kernon began. 'We have found two springs of water and there are goats on the island. We shall neither starve nor suffer want of water. In large, this amounts to an inconvenience only, my lord.'

'But our chances of rescue, Captain?'

'Equally good, I'm happy to say. The master believes us to be somewhere in the south-western Caribbean. This means that we are on the sailing route taken by the logwood traders of Campeche and also the hide droghers of Honduras. It is only a matter of time before we are sighted and Port Royal alerted of our plight. In any event at this moment I have no doubt they are combing the seas for you. Our vessel is unharmed and we have only to wait'

Tor how long, sir?'

Kernon considered. 'I am confident that within a very few weeks we shall be found — a month or two at the most.'

'Damnation!' The vigour of his response brought a flinch at the pain. 'Captain, I have every reason to desire an early return, you must believe. Can we not use the boat?'

Kernon looked shocked. 'I do not recommend such a course of action at all, my lord. The hazards are many, and here we may comfortably await our rescue without risk.'

'What hazards?'

'Why, sir, where would we go without we know where we are? If we sail north in the expectation that Jamaica is there and miss it, we face a hard trip to Cuba. If to the north-east we may fetch up against San Domingo and a French prison—'

'Yes, yes, but it is possible?'

'But most inadvisable.'

'Captain Kernon, I want you to understand that I must make the attempt.' 'My lord—'

'Prepare the boat, sir, I will not be denied.' 'If you insist.' 'I do.'

'You will need seamen to navigate. I shall myself command—'

'You must remain with your ship. And so must your only other officer. Is there no other who can figure a course?' The effort was draining his strength, he grew pale.

'There may be,' Kernon said reluctantly, and passed the word for Seaflower’s quartermaster. When Kydd appeared, he said, 'I cannot order you to do this, Kydd, but are you able to undertake to navigate in a boat voyage to the nearest inhabited place, as determined by Mr Jarman?'

'I am, sir,' Kydd replied seriously.

The decision taken, it was short work to manhandle the longboat to the sandy foreshore. The seas were still up, but would almost certainly be navigable in the morning. The longboat was eighteen feet in length and could carry fourteen men with its eight oars. On the sand it seemed large and commodious enough, but Kydd knew that launched into the vastness of the sea it would magically shrink.

It would be rigged for sailing, a common practice for wide harbours and brisk winds, sloop-rigged with a single mast and runner backstays, but with an extensible bowsprit that would allow it to hoist the two headsails of a cutter.

As seamen padded down with the equipment and began erecting masts, tightening shrouds and shipping rudders, Kydd looked thoughtfully at his first 'command'. At the very least he would heed navigating gear. Jarman and he had held conclave for a long time, reasoning finally that the safest assurance of a civilised landfall was to the south-east, the coast of the continent of South America, a guaranteed unbroken land-mass across their path that had a scattering of Spanish settlements continuously along it. Renzi had been unusually positive that in his opinion the Spaniards had not opened hostilities, and that the high status of their passenger would compel immediate assistance.

A boat-compass would suffice to keep a straight track, but Jarman pressed his cherished octant on Kydd. 'Ye could be grateful t' run a latitude down,' he said. 'You'll be able t' return it when y'r done.'

Stores for a voyage of up to a week were found. Renzi came down the beach with a small package. 'We need food for the spirit as well,' he said, packing it up under a convenient thwart.

'You're coming?' Kydd said, with pleasure.

'And why not? To leave you to enjoy the wonders of the new continent while I remain idle? This is asking too much.'

Kydd grinned, suspecting that Renzi's motives came at least in part from the knowledge that Kydd would need a watch-keeping relief at the tiller. Doud had volunteered to work the sails, and could always sleep between activity, but there would be no rest for the man at the helm. More than that, he knew he would be thankful for real intelligence and cool thought to assist him if it came to decisions that might mean life or death.

'Could we perhaps contrive an awning for Lord Stanhope? We can take our rest sitting athwart,' Renzi suggested. The beam of the longboat was nearly six feet, and with sails as padding they could lie quite comfortably braced around the sides of the boat.

At first light Kydd was down at the longboat, checking every line and fitting. The awning sewn during the night was tried and declared a success, as was the sliding stretcher hanging below the thwarts.

It was time. Kernon and Lady Stanhope accompanied Lord Stanhope down to the boat, their faces set and grave. Cecilia followed with last-minute comforts for the men, while Stirk carried the heavy water barricoes himself.

'My darling .. .' Charlotte bent to her husband and whispered to him while others averted their eyes.

Stanhope's reply was sad but resolute. 'No, my dearest, grant me this only, that of all things I will have the confidence that you are safe from harm. I must go alone and, with God's grace, we shall prevail.'

Her hands squeezed his — then let go.

'We must put you aboard now, my lord,' said Kernon, sounding choked.

The boat was drawn up at the water's edge. The tumbling seas looked colder and more inimical, and glances seaward showed that Kydd was not alone in his feelings. Stirk came up, shuffling his feet in uncharacteristic awkwardness. 'Y'ere a chuckle-headed sawney as ever I saw, Tom, but I honours yez for it,' he said, in a low voice. 'Keep lucky, cock, an' we'll step off on a spree some time ...'

It seemed that the whole ship's company of Seaflower was gathered as Lord Stanhope was placed tenderly in his stretcher. His wife stood motionless, her stricken eyes fixed on her husband.

Cecilia pushed forward. 'I shall go with him,' she declared firmly. 'He needs care. Kindly wait while I fetch a few necessaries.'