Later, as they moved downriver in the fierce, cold breeze, Kaye took the windward quarterdeck like a proper man, and cast a sulky eye upon proceedings which, however, carried on with little thanks to him. Gunning, at the con, stood heavy and four-square in a great serge coat, with one of his own non-Navy men on the helm. His own men, likewise, were at the sheets and braces, dressed less heavily than their master but equally at their ease, as familiar as barge men with the crowded narrow water they were slipping down.
The traffic coming up was not so heavy, naturally, as most square-rigged vessels could not attempt it with the wind and tide both hard against them, but fore-and-afters were plentiful enough, the ebb not yet running full, to need avoiding action pretty regular. But Biter was not fully canvased, sailing staid and easy under topsails only, so there were no alarms.
The midshipmen, once she had slipped and gone, went to the waist to oversee the Navy men getting ready for the fray ahead. This was not done by order from the captain either, but by custom and practice known to Holt, conveyed to Bentley. The contrast with Swift again struck as acute, for Kaye's method appeared to be to take no active part in anything, whereas his uncle had controlled the smallest particle with a grip of iron. When this complete indifference led the 'proper man' to go below Sam found it funny, but Will was less amused. According to his uncle, he was meant to bring Kaye up; a thought to conjure with indeed, but not, mayhap, to understand or to believe in.
The Navy seamen, all rated able, plus Jem Taylor and his mate Eaton, a ginger shock head from northern Kent, seemed likewise to operate without the need for supervision from above. They had all been drunk the night before, had fought desultorily with Gunning's crew, but all looked little worse for wear. They needed Sam to produce and turn the keys to the weapons store and powder room, and William to mark down in the ledger the pistols, muskets and cutlasses that were issued, but for nothing more. Taylor and Eaton then took them off, divided them, and set about checks and issues that went off with great efficiency. Before much time elapsed, Will fell to looking out across the estuarial lands and mud banks of the lower Thames, a flat and boring landscape to his Hampshire eyes, whose villages and stunted townships struck him as chill and sad. The weather did not help, for it was blowing strongly from a sky increasing overcast, which churned the brown waters of the river into dingy whitecaps that piled up on the growing mud flats to make thick rolls and banks of coffee-coloured foam that broke and flew in dirty chunks to every harder gust. Nor was the grass a stark and lovely green like grass at home, but pale and yellowish, sparse near the water's edge, and coarse. And out towards the sea, a long, low grey horizon, isles like Grain and Sheppey, more mud and a choppy vista of grey-brown water, its surface massed with coasting boats and fishermen, dotted with bigger ships anchored or snugged down to wait the tide and possibly a fairer wind.
"God," he said to Samuel, 'so many sail. It seems impossible we have to tear men off them to fill so few. It seems impossible we cannot just..."
"What? Range up alongside of them and ask for any spare? Good chance of that, they fight like tigers to prevent the loss of one drunk cripple. God knows why. Their lordships might not pay so good but the food's a damn sight better and more of it, and we've got twenty men to hand a sail when they've got one or two." His lips took an ironic turn. "Maybe it's getting home to hearth and wife more than once in every two years or three, and shore furlough to drink and shag and other soft ideas like that!"
Almost without them noticing, Kershaw had drifted down on them, just forward of the quarterdeck at the weather rail. They had seen him earlier with the lieutenant near but not with, for he was tentative and totally ignored but no active movement in their direction had been discerned. Yet here he was, a yard from Samuel, and to add to their surprise, he spoke.
"The master sails her well," he said, 'and knows the river. I too have some little knowledge which I could impart, of buoys and markers and the shoals." He looked at Bentley, not exactly boldly, but with an unexpected hardness in his eye. "I would hesitate to say so, but your uncle might expect it of me, sir."
Before he answered, William considered. He was back at sea, the die was cast, and if he was to get along, it were better it was quickly. On Welfare he had begun to learn the rudiments, and could take a noon sight as well as any other fourteen-year-old on board, although his theory was deplorable. But fourteen now was many years astern, and he had to learn, and cram, and pass for a lieutenant or his life would be unbearable. He had a vision of more men like Richard Kaye as his commanders, or worse, more men like his uncle. Yet Kershaw was his uncle's place man and he despised him still. He should make use of him if possible, but it would be a wrench.
Sam Holt was not so nice, it seemed. He smiled easily at the sick and hurt lieutenant, and pointed to a withy on the larboard bow. It was divided at the top, a short branch and a long.
"I'll listen, Mr. Kershaw, and that right happily," he said. "I've marked that Gunning goes sometimes to one side of these forked affairs, and sometimes the other. Are they showing middle ground, or do we not hit by luck? I asked him once but he just smirked at me."
"He knows the bottom hereabouts," Kershaw replied. "He knows the state of tide. That forked one's not a middle ground, but it marks a channel that divides. Going downriver as we are, on a falling tide, it should be left to larboard, as he does. If he's left ones like it on the other side I guess it's been high water, or near the top of flood. Withies need special care, though. Without full knowledge, or a pilot, they can lead you hard aground. Now, see that buoy ahead? That is a safer mark, for it tells you which side to pass."
He taught for near an hour, until the hands were piped to supper. He seemed to tire easy, though, and his exposition went rapidly awry after a certain point. He felt the cold quite oddly, too, for despite his heavy coat he began to shiver long before the younger men were aware of any small discomfort, his one eye watering. It was the end of summer and the breeze was brisk, but it was astern of them and from the western quarter, and hardly freezing. Soon he fell silent, then slunk away or rather, drifted wraithlike, much as he had joined them earlier. He had quarters near them, a small berth partitioned off, and he collected some biscuit and a pan of coffee from the cook, more like a common seaman than a supernumerary, and went below with it. Lieutenant Kaye was still off the deck, though Gunning had not moved.
"Do we eat alone?" said Will. "Or is there a standing invite in the cabin? Odds, Sam, this is a pretty ship, indeed!"
"It is," said Sam. "Of all the ships I've been in it's the prettiest. I've been in ships where everything was done by calls and drums, and if you missed your dinner by a half a minute you could starve. In Biter if you had a mind you could move Geoff Raper over in the galley and cook your bacon any way you liked. Gunning, going down the river, eats normally at the con, and his best hands at their stations. The Navy men are fast below by now."
"And us?"
"Well, no standing invite, that I promise you. I've sat at Kaye's table five times or less in twice as many weeks. But Raper's a good man, he'll not forget us. Try patience, and enjoy the sunset. We'll come to killick soon, I guess. Too many ships here to go blundering in the dark. We leave that to the free trade in these parts."
However, although the sky was darkening, there was other work afoot than dropping hook. Holt and Bentley ate below, in what might have been the gunroom in a bigger ship, but returned on deck within a half an hour. They were beyond the Nore, and it must have been low water for there were high sandbanks visible in all directions. Activity was intense, as vessels that had been still moving brought to in droves to spend the darkness hours safely, but the Biter showed no signs of stopping. Lieutenant Kaye was on the quarterdeck, and he had evidently called Gunning up to him. They were looking off to larboard, across the exposed banks towards the north east, where in the falling light they could discern some distant sails. They were far away, and would not approach the estuary too close at night, but it looked as if Kaye meant to go and meet one of them, at least. At that moment, indeed, he beckoned them across.