"Er, I'm considering th' prospects," Kydd answered politely.
"Might I know what you conceive t' be a captain's first concern in a private man-o'-war?"
Kydd hesitated, then came back stoutly, "T' keep th' seas without cease until a prize be sighted," he said, "an' then t' spare nothing until th' prize is ours."
Robidou replied in measured tones, "For m'self, I'd think that the higher is t' take a proper regard f'r the ship an' her fittings as they are the property o' the owners, Mr Kydd. Cracking on in a chase is all fine an' well, but if she strains aloft or carries away her sticks, is she fit t' carry on after th' next prize? An' can ye tell me your outlay f'r a prime main-yard? 'Twould make y' eyes water, sir."
Kydd mumbled something, but Robidou pressed on: "Then what would be y'r second-most concern, sir?"
"Why, y'r books of account, o' course, sir," Kydd replied. "What is y'r prize-taking without y' know your expenses t' date as must be set against y'r profit? Double-entry, o' course, an' properly shipshape."
"Well said, sir!" rumbled Robidou. "So many neglect the same t' the eventual mortification o' their finances. Tell me, Mr Kydd, have ye experience at sea in th' commercial line?"
"I have, Mr Robidou. I was captain o' the Totnes Castle in th' colony trade around th' Cape, an' the owners were pleased enough wi' my service." There was probably no need to explain that it had been a convict transport. "And I stood by m' brig-sloop fitting out in Malta. A right caution t' see what hookum snivey the chousin' rogues tried at th' dockyard, it not being a King's yard."
Robidou nodded. "Totnes Castle—can't say I've knowledge of her. Now, these Channel Islands, do ye feel comfortable wi' the sea conditions t' be found here?"
"Aye. In Teazer we had on board Mr Queripel, an' a taut hand he was at y'r currents an' tides. He was good enough t' allow me t' hoist aboard a mort o' learning o' th' Brittany coast."
"I know Queripel," Robidou said. "A good man. Well, I can see ye'll need to haul in a lot more about the privateer trade, but b' the look o' you, we'll rub along, I'm sure. Mr Vauvert, if we can satisfy Mr Kydd with our articles, I think we have a venture."
It was no good. He couldn't go on any longer: a privateer captain or a stagehand—he couldn't be both. But if he stopped working he would be without enough funds to contribute to his lodging or whatever lay ahead.
Rosie was sympathetic. "My dear, it happens to us all. You're between engagements and embarrassed for means." She smiled sweetly. "You shan't leave us on that account." Crossing to a corner table she touched an odd-looking china cat with an upraised paw. "If y' have need, just ask Mojo here." She lifted its head and found him some coins. "In course, we give him back th' rhino as soon as we're in the cobbs again."
Kydd felt a gush of warmth. He felt he was sharing in a tradition that might have been handed down from the travelling players of Shakespeare's time, a custom that helped the needy without causing embarrassment. "Don't worry, Rosie, I will," he said. "An' when m' first prize comes home, we'll have such a hob-a-nob together as will set th' town t' talkin' f'r weeks."
Robidou's small office was on the top floor of an old ship's chandlery on the waterfront near the harbour and still smelled of the century of sea stores that had once been there. He looked up from a broad desk set under old-fashioned windows with a view out to sea. "I think it only proper t' tell ye what's to happen afore we can think t' fit out our craft for cruising."
An elderly clerk scratching away against the wall murmured something but Robidou cut him short. "No, Samuel, those figures must be presented tonight—we'll not disturb ye." He took Kydd into another room and said gravely. "He's preparing our case as will be put t' the investors. It has t' be a fine rousin' one or they'll not hazard their capital."
Kydd felt a sudden chilclass="underline" his hopes might yet be turned to dust.
"Don't concern y'self, Mr Kydd, that's business for me. But after we've got agreement we must appoint the officers."
"The officers?" Surely this was his prerogative?
"Why, yes! I shall be made ship's husband, o' course, but there's the business house in London. We'll need a bond agent—Paul Le Mesurier I'd trust. We has t' find a proctor an' notary public, and there'll be insurance and legal agents t' appoint. But ye won't be interested in this-all, you'll want t' hear about drawing up th' articles of agreement and shares."
"I do, Mr Robidou!" Kydd said, as heartily as he could.
"Well, curb y' impatience, sir, all in good time. Now after this is signed, we have the venture. I'll be collectin' the subscriptions an' establishin' our credit wi' the Priaulx house—they owns privateers but they'll handle fittin' out for us in return we gives 'em commissions of appraisement an' such on our prizes. When I've done that we can go lookin' for a ship for ye." Robidou chuckled. "Then ye has t' find a crew as will follow, an' then finally take out y'r Letter o' Marque!"
It was an intoxicating thought: there was every reason to hope that soon he could be once more at sea and, miraculously, as captain! "When do we—That is, m' ship. Do we . . . ?"
Just how did one go about acquiring a privateer vessel? Go to a builder of privateers? Look in the newspaper advertisements? Impatience flooded Kydd.
"Your ship? A mite impetuous when we hasn't yet an agreement, sir." Robidou relented with a grin. "Why don't ye take a walk along the harbour? If'n there's a saucy craft as takes y'r eye, it's possible we'll make an offer. Havelet Bay an' St Sampson, the builders' yards there, might have something t' interest ye."
Kydd lost no time. There was every conceivable vessel in St Peter Port harbour. Stately barques, nondescript luggers, and at anchor in the Great Road large merchantmen sporting a surprising number of guns a side.
But where were the privateers? Would he recognise one? Those he had come upon at sea were a mixed bag indeed, from large three-masters to the swarms in the Mediterranean not much bigger than boats. There was probably not a single type of vessel that could be classed definitively as a privateer.
His pace slowed. This would not be easy. Were vessels purpose-built to be privateers? If so, what would their characteristics be? Fast craft, probably sharp in the hull with sparring to take a cloud of canvas—but those were the very kind whose sea-keeping was so poor they would have to retire at the first sign of a blow. And as well, in the confines of a sharp-built vessel, where were the prize-crews going to find berths? And stowage for stores to keep the seas for any length of time? Then again, if he were the prey, a smart, rakish predator lifting above the horizon would instantly have him sheering away for his life, and it would be a tedious and costly stern chase to go after every prize.
It was something to which he had never before given thought. He looked at the ships working cargoes: what would be their perspectives on the matter? As prey at sea, they would be as wary as any wild animal fearing a fox ranging nearby, so if the privateer seemed one of them on its lawful occasions they would not take much notice of his approach or any manoeuvre that would otherwise seem threatening.
Yes! A ship of respectable size, probably brig-rigged, as so many traders were. Then a sudden unmasking of a goodly row of guns to convince even the stoutest heart that resistance would be futile. This would have the additional benefit that there would be no gun-play to damage prize or cargo. A ship, in fact, not so very different from Teazer . . .
There were several that might qualify: as he surveyed the busy harbour one in particular stood out. A black-hulled brigantine of two or three hundred tons, sitting handily on the mud in the tidal harbour to reveal her sweet underwater lines. There were few about her decks; her hatches were on, probably awaiting her cargo—or she was in idleness.