letter
most surely will cause her great agitation of the spirit, will frighten her like
a deer from the unknown.'
Kydd
did not argue, but stared at him obstinately.
'And the rest is worse. It is a cardinal
rule in any affair of the heart, which is — shall we say? - on an irregular
basis, that nothing is placed in writing, which could, er, be misconstrued by a
third party.' Renzi held Kydd's reluctant attention. 'For the passing on of
your letter you will have secured the services of someone close to her, I
assume her maid. The letter will most certainly be delivered — but she is not
expecting it and it will be placed on a silver salver, as is our way in polite
society, together with others, but you are not to know this. Her husband may be
in residence, he will be curious at the unknown writing or the perturbation of
spirits in his wife as she receives it. In short, my friend, you most certainly
will be discovered.
'And if I recollect, it
is mentioned that her husband is, in a substantial way, a member of the
military.'
Kydd paled. 'Er, the
acting town major, right enough. Do you — would he, d'ye think, want a duel or
somethin'?'
Renzi held his stern
expression, delaying his response as long as he could in the face of Kydd's
anxious gaze.
'Well, I am obliged to point out
that as you are not accounted a gentleman, he cannot obtain a satisfaction and
would not demean his standing in society by a meeting.' He sighed and continued
gently, 'Therefore a horse-whipping is more to be expected, I believe.'
There was a shocked
silence. Then Kydd drew himself up. 'Thank ye, Nicholas, that was very kind in you
t' make it all so clear,' he said quietly, and made his way below.
That night,, the agent was picked
up, unaccompanied, at the appointed rendezvous. His news was not good; given in
breathless haste as soon as he had made the dimly lit deck, it was overheard by
the entire quarterdeck watch and, in the way of things, quickly relayed around
the ship.
The grandee, a
diplomat, Sir Alastair Leith, had planned to cross the Alps to safety in the
independent republic of Venice, but things had gone from bad to much worse.
Daring a lightning advance from France across the north of Italy to the other
side, the French had taken city after city, putting the Austrians and
Sardinians to humiliating retreat. Beautiful, ancient Italian cities, such as
Verona, Mantua, Rivoli, were already in the hands of the vigorous and
precocious new general, Napoleon Buonaparte, who was now flooding the rich
plains of the Po valley with French soldiers. Soon the Venetian Republic and
her territories would be isolated, quite cut off, and the history of this
gifted land would be changed for all time.
'You saw the consul,
did you not, Mr Amati?' the captain asked coldly. The ambassador would have
long since departed, and English interests would be served by a consul, a
local, probably a merchant.
The single lanthorn
illuminated only one side of the agent's face and he shifted defensively. ‘Mi
scusi — the city is violent, excited, he is deeficult to fin', Capitano.'
'So
you were unable to contact him.'
'I did no' say that,'
the Italian said, affronted. He was short, dark and intense, and his eyes
glittered in the lanthorn light. 'I send a message. He tell me Signore Lith i'
not in Venezia — anywhere.'
'Thank you.'
There was now the fearful decision as to whether and for how long they should
wait for him to appear or if they should make the reasonable assumption that he
had been overtaken by the French. A frigate dallying off the port would
inevitably attract notice, no matter which colours she flew, and in the
heightened tensions of war she would soon be the focus of attention from ever}'
warring power. Then again, if they sailed away, leaving stranded the delayed
object of their mission . ..
The captain paced
forward rigidly along the whole length of the deck to the fo'c'sle. Men stood
aside, touching their hats but unnoticed. He
most surely will cause her great agitation of the spirit, will frighten her like
a deer from the unknown.'
Kydd
did not argue, but stared at him obstinately.
'And the rest is worse. It is a cardinal
rule in any affair of the heart, which is — shall we say? - on an irregular
basis, that nothing is placed in writing, which could, er, be misconstrued by a
third party.' Renzi held Kydd's reluctant attention. 'For the passing on of
your letter you will have secured the services of someone close to her, I
assume her maid. The letter will most certainly be delivered — but she is not
expecting it and it will be placed on a silver salver, as is our way in polite
society, together with others, but you are not to know this. Her husband may be
in residence, he will be curious at the unknown writing or the perturbation of
spirits in his wife as she receives it. In short, my friend, you most certainly
will be discovered.
'And if I recollect, it
is mentioned that her husband is, in a substantial way, a member of the
military.'
Kydd paled. 'Er, the
acting town major, right enough. Do you — would he, d'ye think, want a duel or
somethin'?'
Renzi held his stern
expression, delaying his response as long as he could in the face of Kydd's
anxious gaze.
'Well, I am obliged to point out
that as you are not accounted a gentleman, he cannot obtain a satisfaction and
would not demean his standing in society by a meeting.' He sighed and continued
gently, 'Therefore a horse-whipping is more to be expected, I believe.'
There was a shocked
silence. Then Kydd drew himself up. 'Thank ye, Nicholas, that was very kind in you
t' make it all so clear,' he said quietly, and made his way below.
That night,, the agent was picked
up, unaccompanied, at the appointed rendezvous. His news was not good; given in
breathless haste as soon as he had made the dimly lit deck, it was overheard by
the entire quarterdeck watch and, in the way of things, quickly relayed around
the ship.
The grandee, a
diplomat, Sir Alastair Leith, had planned to cross the Alps to safety in the
independent republic of Venice, but things had gone from bad to much worse.
Daring a lightning advance from France across the north of Italy to the other
side, the French had taken city after city, putting the Austrians and
Sardinians to humiliating retreat. Beautiful, ancient Italian cities, such as
Verona, Mantua, Rivoli, were already in the hands of the vigorous and
precocious new general, Napoleon Buonaparte, who was now flooding the rich
plains of the Po valley with French soldiers. Soon the Venetian Republic and
her territories would be isolated, quite cut off, and the history of this
gifted land would be changed for all time.
'You saw the consul,
did you not, Mr Amati?' the captain asked coldly. The ambassador would have
long since departed, and English interests would be served by a consul, a
local, probably a merchant.
The single lanthorn
illuminated only one side of the agent's face and he shifted defensively. ‘Mi
scusi — the city is violent, excited, he is deeficult to fin', Capitano.'
'So
you were unable to contact him.'
'I did no' say that,'
the Italian said, affronted. He was short, dark and intense, and his eyes
glittered in the lanthorn light. 'I send a message. He tell me Signore Lith i'
not in Venezia — anywhere.'
'Thank you.'
There was now the fearful decision as to whether and for how long they should
wait for him to appear or if they should make the reasonable assumption that he
had been overtaken by the French. A frigate dallying off the port would
inevitably attract notice, no matter which colours she flew, and in the
heightened tensions of war she would soon be the focus of attention from ever}'
warring power. Then again, if they sailed away, leaving stranded the delayed
object of their mission . ..
The captain paced
forward rigidly along the whole length of the deck to the fo'c'sle. Men stood
aside, touching their hats but unnoticed. He
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