Read Online Invasion by Julian Stockwin - Free Book Online Page B

the fast current and sandbanks past the entrance to be not under way . . . and close astern a heavy frigate was coming down on them at speed. With the wind large there was no other way than to wheel about awkwardly and place the fore aback, but Kydd was not going to lose Renzi.
    The frigate plunged past with an energetic volley of abuse from her quarterdeck. The wherry stroked out manfully and at last hooked on at the main-chains. While Teazer paid off before the wind, willing hands hauled Renzi in, his bundles of books needing more robust hoisting.
    â€œI do apologise, sir,” Renzi said formally.
    Kydd, still in his quarterdeck brace, frowned but said nothing.
    â€œWe lost a wheel before Petersfield and—”
    â€œMr. Renzi! I rather feel that in this instance you might have been topping it overmuch the cunctator , as it were.”
    Renzi was transfixed with astonishment at his friend’s cultivated words. The Latin cunctator— delayer—was indeed appropriate, an allusion to the tactic used by the Roman commander in the war with Hannibal, an attempt to deny the enemy a battle. “Why, thank you, sir!” He wasn’t about to let Kydd get away with this one, whatever the reason for its mysterious appearance.
    â€œThank you?” Kydd said, crestfallen.
    â€œFor the compliment, of course, dear fellow. It was by this very tactic that Quintus Fabius Maximus may have shamed the Roman Army but it undoubtedly won him the war and his nickname.”
    The open Channel won and a fine westerly in their sails, by evening there was chance to sup together.
    Renzi opened politely. “Er, at the risk of impertinence I cannot help but remark the elegance of your speech, its genteel delivery, the—”
    â€œQuite simple, Renzi, old chap. I’ve given it a deal of thought. And it seems to me, the only way to move forward in this world is not to kick against the pricks . . .” a flash of smugness was quickly smothered “. . . but be agreeable to the customary forms of civility and breeding when in genteel company. In fine, if I’m to enter in on society, then I’m to be like them. And you have m’ word on it, enter in I will!”
    â€œThen you have my most earnest admiration, Tom—er, Kydd, old trout. So recently shunned by society and cast into the very depths, yet you hold no grudge, no antipathy towards those who—”
    â€œIt’s past. I have a bright future now and I’m going to take it with both hands and do what I have to.”
    â€œAre you certain that—”
    â€œM’ dear friend. Since coming into my fortune, I stand amazed at the boldness and presumption as can be found from having a pot o’ gold at your back! I cannot fear the rich-dressed when I’m rigged the same, or stand mumchance while they talk wry, when I can, just as well.”
    â€œThere are other—”
    â€œYou must believe I’ve not trifled away my time, m’ dear Renzi. There’s quantities of professional gentlemen in Portsmouth who do rue our sailing, and I have a stand o’ books in my cabin as will keep me amused for voyages to come.”
    â€œI honour you for it,” Renzi said.
    â€œYou’ll oblige me by maintaining a quality o’ discourse while about my person.”
    â€œI shall endeavour to do so,” came the sincere response.
    â€œThen m’ course is set. Tysoe, do attend to Mr. Renzi’s glass, if you please.”
    The Downs! A fulcrum for the torrent of shipping that came and went around the corner of the North Foreland into the Thames and the mighty maw of London, where hundreds of ships of all flags might be lying anchored, waiting for a favourable wind to take them outward bound down-Channel, or inbound to the north, or across to the Baltic. The ten-mile stretch of the Downs was bordered five miles offshore by the notorious Goodwin Sands, since medieval times a fearful hazard, but this