He drew himself up. "But, gentlemen, it would be my particular honour to offer you the refreshments of the road."
"You are too kind, sir," Renzi said elegantly, with a bow.
They were soon seated in an enchanting arbour in a small garden at the front of a Mediterranean white house, all set about with myrtle, jasmine and vines and with a splendid view down into the harbour. The man withdrew and they heard shrill female protests overborne with stern male tones before he reappeared.
"My apologies. I am Don Carlos Pina, a merchant of oil of olive."
The officers bowed and introduced themselves. A lady wreathed in smiles appeared with a tray, murmuring a politeness in what Kydd assumed was Mahon-ese. On the tray he recognised Xoriguer and there were sweetmeats that had him reaching out.
"Ah! Those are the amargos. If they are too bitter, please to try the coquinyales here." Pina spoke to the woman, who coloured with pleasure. "My wife remember what you English like."
The crunchy anisette indeed complemented the gin and lemon cordial but Kydd had to say what was on his mind: "D' ye please tell me, sir, why you are not offended at our bein' here?"
Pina smiled broadly. "Our prosperity is tied to the English— when you left in 'eighty-two our trade suffer so cruel where before we trade with the whole world. Now by chance it will return."
"I'm sure it will," Renzi contributed.
Pina flourished the Xoriguer. "I toast His Majesty King George—King George th' Three! I hope he enjoy good health?" he added anxiously.
"He is still our gracious sovereign," Renzi replied.
"Please! Gentlemen, you may toast to the return of Lady Fortune to Minorca!"
Renzi asked earnestly, "Sir, this is such an ancient island. The Moors, Romans, Phoenicians—surely they have left their mark on the land, perhaps curious structures, singular artefacts?"
"There is no end of them," Pina said brightly, "but there are also the navete of the Talaiot—before even the Roman, they build boats of stone! No man know what they are. We never go near." He crossed himself fervently, bobbing his head.
"Excellent!" said Renzi.
"And if you are interested in Minorca, good sir, I recommend to your attention the town of Migjorn Gran, in which you will find many learned in the ancient ways of our island."
Kydd put down his glass. "And Mao is not far ahead?"
"I'm delaying you!" Pina said, in consternation. "Before you leave, the abrazo!" To Kydd's embarrassment he was seized in an embrace. "So! Now you are for us the hermanito, our ver' good friend!"
Mahon bustled with excitement. It seemed a declaration of open trade was to be gazetted immediately by the English, and merchants scurried to prepare for prosperous times. The dignified but sleepy town was waking up and the purposeful hurry of the population was in marked contrast to Kydd and Renzi's leisured pace.
Noble churches stood among a maze of busy streets; an ancient archway glowered at the top of one, and there were shops of every sort between lofty residence with balconies. Kydd was charmed by the little town, which had in parts an almost English reserve. On impulse, he stopped as they were passing a handicrafts shop. "Nicholas, I'd like t' take something o' Minorca back to m' mother as a remembrance. A piece o' lace?"
They entered the quiet interior of the shop. It took a few seconds for Kydd's eyes to adjust to the gloom after the glare of the sun but then he saw the girl behind the counter. "Er, can I see y' lace—for m' mother ..." He tailed off, seeing her grave attention.
But she gave a delighted squeal. "You are Engliss? Que suerte haberte conocido! I always want to meet an Engliss gentleman, my mother she say—"
"If we are to make the cloisters by angelus we must step out," said Renzi, sharply.
"Cloisters?" said Kydd, distracted.
"We have much yet to admire, brother."
Tenacious was first to be warped across the harbour to the dockyard for survey: she had suffered at the Nile with her lighter framing, and a worrying increase in bilge pumping was possibly the result of a shot taken between wind and water.
It did not take long to find the cause: two balls landing not far apart below the waterline had damaged a run of several strakes.
They would have to be replaced. With the ship canted to one side by capstans to expose her lower hull she was barely inhabitable and, with the prospect of possibly months at the dockyard, her officers quickly realised that lodgings ashore would be much more agreeable. The best location was evident: Carrer San Roc in the centre of Mahon, where fine town-houses in the English style were to be readily engaged.
A small but comfortable establishment with quaint furniture from the reign of one of the previous Georges met the bill, and Kydd and Renzi moved in without delay. It was a capital headquarters for further exploration of the island.
Renzi laid down his Reflections on the Culture and Antiquity of Iberia. "It is said that the western Ciudadela is of quite another character," he mused, nursing his brandy. "Suffered cruelly from the Turks but still retains splendid edifices—but the people are of the Castilian Spanish and have no love for an Englishman."
Kydd picked up a dog-eared newspaper and settled into his high-backed chair. "An' I heard fr'm one o' the midshipmen that t' take away a boat and sail around the island would be prime— there's snug coves an' beaches all up the coast."
"Where, then, is your warlike ardour, your lofty aspirations to laurels?"
"With our ship in dock? Little chance t' find such ... but there are compensations," Kydd said, with a private smile and raised his paper again.
"Oh?" Renzi said.
"Nicholas, I saw Love's Labour's Lost is t' be staged tonight. Do ye fancy t' attend at all?"
"Well, if we—"
"Unfortunately the captain wants t' sight m' journals, I must complete 'em. But do go y'self, I beg!"
"Actually, this volume is an engrossing account of your Hispanic in all his glory. I rather fancy I shall spend a quiet evening here."
"Nicholas, m' friend, you will do y'r eyes a grievous injury with all this readin'. In th' big church they're presentin' a concert o' music especially t' welcome the English. Why not go an' enjoy this? There's all y'r favourite composers, er, Pergylasy and—"
"I see I must," Renzi said flatly, and Kydd coloured. Later, leaving for the concert, he nearly collided with someone walking in haste. He had last seen her at the lace counter.
Kydd had to admit the forced idleness was not altogether an imposition. He was seated at a table in a small taberna with Renzi, enjoying a good bottle of red wine and the fine view from their position at the top of the cliff-like edge of the town into the glittering emerald length of the harbour. "Y'r good health, Nicholas," he said complacently, raising his glass.
"A most underrated and priceless gift," Renzi murmured, lifting his glass and staring into it.
"Er, wha—?"
"Robust health, in course, brother. Worth more than diamonds and rubies, this can never be bought with coin—it is always a gift from nature to man, which never asks aught in return."
"Just so, Nicholas. But do you mark that barque comin' around th' point? She's English." This was a welcome sight in the Mediterranean that, before Nelson's victory, had been cleared of English flagged vessels. "A merchantman," Kydd said lazily, and pulled out his little spyglass. "Cautious master, fat 'n' comfortable—wonder what she's carryin'."
The vessel went into the wind, brailing up and coming to a standstill. Lines were carried ashore by boat and in one movement the ship was rotated seaward again and brought alongside the landing-place near the customs house, just below where they sat.