This incitement to naked bribery had appalled the Americans, and when it had leaked out there had been outrage. For the first time it appeared President Adams would have to move—to declare war? And with what?
Liston dipped his pen and began to write.
Chapter 10
"MAY I CORRECT YOU, SIR? We do have a navy," Gindler said, with an ironic smile, "As of a week ago. Might I explain?"
It seemed that there had been congressional authorisation for a "naval armament" since the Algerines trouble, but this had been a War Department matter of the time. Now Congress wanted the reality, and had therefore recently established a Department of the Navy to act like the British Admiralty and was to appoint a full secretary of the Navy.
"So, our navy is born." Gindler had an engaging smile, but Kydd detected a harder layer beneath his cheery manner.
Kydd's head was still muzzy after his visit to the Blue Anchor, and he tried to concentrate. "Y' don't just say you'll have a navy— you now have t' find ships, officers. How are y' going t' do that? And dockyards, victualling, slops . . ."
He looked at Gindler—and felt that this vigorous new country might just find some way. "Wish ye well of it, Mr Gindler," he said sincerely. Then he added, "But I'd be obliged now, sir, if you'd explain what you were doing."
"Certainly. I was spying on you, Mr Kydd."
"Wha'?"
"We need to know what a British officer is doing on our soil, you'll agree?"
"Then why th' skulking about? It's no secret why I'm here."
"Ah. This is not to do with your own good self, I do assure you. It has rather more to do with our democratic way, Mr Kydd. If the citizens of this town, living as they do in Connecticut, find out that I, as an agent of the federal government, am poking around in a matter they conclude is theirs, then I'll soon need a fast horse out of Exbury."
"Oh? Have you got what you came for, then?" Kydd thought the whole thing sounded more than a little far-fetched.
"Shall we say, sir, that I'd rather like to be shaking hands with an English officer as he steps into his boat to return to his ship?"
"Aye. Well, thanks t' your citizens, the Frenchman lies here untouched an' my ship must sail away. Have no fear, you'll have y'r wish, Mr Gindler. At noon I throw out my signal and the boat will come to take me and my English carcass off." He smiled wryly, then added, "But do walk with me until then, an' tell me more of y'r plans for a navy."
Kydd retrieved his baggage from Jacob Hay and stood with Gindler on the small jetty. Tenacious was approaching and would heave to on the three-mile line for a space while telescopes spied the shore for Kydd's signal. If there was none, she would fill, stand out to sea and return on the following day.
"If it's any consolation, my friend, it grieves me as much as it does you," Gindler said, in a voice low enough not to be overheard by the ragged crowd that had come to see the defeated Englishman leave.
"Oh?" said Kydd bitterly. He was in no mood to be consoled.
Gindler was spared having to answer by the thud of hoofs. The constable hove into view and pulled up his horse. "Mr Dwight sends 'is compliments an' hopes you can pay him a call before y' leaves."
Kydd bit his lip. It was within half an hour of midday, and if he missed the time to display his signal flag, Tenacious would stand offshore for another day.
The constable leaned down. "Noos!" he said hoarsely, and winked broadly.
Dwight was businesslike. "It's none of your business, o' course, Mr Kydd, but you'll find out anyway—I've had word from the governor in Hartford, an' he takes his advice from Philadelphia. Seems they've had enough o' the Frenchies and I'm to serve an order on their captain that they've just twenty-four hours to quit United States territory." He stuffed papers into a desk. "I guess this means you'll be about y'r business then, Mr Kydd," he added, holding the door open.
Kydd had minutes—if he could make his signal . . .
A wily captain like Junon could play it well; he would use all his twenty-four hours to fettle his ship for any circumstance. Then, no doubt, he would sail slowly and directly to the edge of territorial waters, luring Tenacious towards him. When the English ship was committed to his approach he would throw over his helm to one side or the other and, hoisting every possible sail, break out with his superior speed into the open sea.
Gindler was waiting curiously at the jetty. "Minotaure—she's t' sail within twenty-four hours," Kydd said quietly, catching his breath, watching the main topsail of Tenacious brace sturdily around as she made to heave to.
"Well, now, you leave like a hero."
"Perhaps not—I have t' think," Kydd said, distracted. True, the Minotaure was forced to sea, but what was the use of this if the privateer could slip away past her pursuer? It was damned bad luck that their sloop, Lynx, would not yet have returned from alerting the admiral of Tenacious's dispositions, for the two together had a chance of hounding Minotaure to her doom. Could anything be done?
Desperate times meant desperate measures: Kydd had heard of a drag-sail being used to reduce speed; a disguised ship would pretend dull sailing to lure a prey. Perhaps he could stay ashore and tie a sail secretly to Minotaure, slow her enough to catch. He soon realised that before the privateer had gone any distance her captain would want to know why she was slowing and discover the trick.
"Mr Kydd!" Gindler pointed out to sea where Tenacious was bringing round her main topsail yard.
Kydd pulled the red number-one flag from his pocket and hurried to the front of the gaggle of spectators, spread it wide and let it hang. His news would surely set the ship abuzz.
There appeared to be little activity on her quarterdeck: the daily run inshore had lost its novelty, no doubt. Then topmen began mounting the shrouds and in a smart display the main topsail came around and filling, at the same time as the main course was loosed—and Tenacious gracefully got under way for the open sea.
Kydd held the signal high in the forlorn hope that someone was looking back on the little township but, her sails sheeted home, Tenacious made off to the horizon amid the sniggering and laughter of the onlookers.
Kydd stood mortified. Not only was he left stranded but he had failed to pass on his vital news. Even if he could find a boat quickly no small craft could catch a big square-rigger in full sail. The only certainty was that Tenacious would return the next day.
And where could he lay his head that night? He knew he could not go back to Hay. "Er, Mr Gindler, if y're familiar with this town, do you know of any lodgin' house?"
"No, sir, I do not. That is, I don't know of one fit for a gentleman." He smiled. "Come now, I can't have an English guest take back a poor notion of my country. You shall stay with me, Mr Kydd."
"Why, Mr Gindler, that's very kind in you."
Gindler patted him on the shoulder. "And it keeps you safely under my eye . . ."
"I always try to make New England for the summer, a prime place to rest the spirit—and it is here that I stay." It was a retired fisherman's cottage by the edge of the water, complete with its own boathouse.
"Do you fish, Mr Kydd? The halibut and cod here, fresh caught, will by any estimate grace the highest table in the land. We shall try some tonight."