Mutiny by Julian Stockwin Page A

returned, and came to a halt near
the wheel, then turned to the waiting officers. 'I cannot wait here, yet we
cannot abandon Sir Alastair.
    'Lieutenant Griffith,
I'd be obliged if you would go to Venice and there await his arrival. When he
appears, it is your duty to hire or seize a vessel, and make rendezvous with me
at sea. This will enable me to keep the ship well away from the coast. I
propose to wait for ten days only.'
    Griffith
hesitated, but only for a moment. 'Aye aye, sir.'
    'The master will furnish you with a list
of our noon positions for the next fourteen days. I do not have to impress upon
you the importance of their secrecy.'
    'No,
sir.'
    'You will be provided
with a quantity of money for your subsistence — which you will account for on
your return, together with a sum for contingent necessaries.' He pondered, then
said, 'You may find Mr Renzi useful, I suspect. And a couple of steady hands —
it would be well to have a care when ashore, I believe. Who will you have?'
    'Kydd, sir,' Griffith
said instantly. 'Then, after a moment's reflection, 'And Larsson.' The big
Swedish quartermaster was a good choice.
    'We must rely on Mr
Amati to find discreet quarters for you — the place will no doubt be alive with
spies of every description, and you must be extremely circumspect.'
    'Yes,
sir.'
    'Then
we shall proceed to details.'
    At Amati's suggestion,
a trabaccolo, a. fat lug-rigged merchant craft, one of many scuttling nervously
past in the dark, was brought to with a shot before her bows. Discussions under
the guns of the frigate were brief, but English silver was considered a fair
compensation for the delay, with the promise of more on safe arrival in Venice.
    Bemused and interested
by turns, Kydd clambered over the gunwale of the little coaster after
Lieutenant Griffith. The crew lounged about the lively deck under an
evil-smelling oil-lamp, watching stonily, the stout captain fussing them all
aboard with a constant jabber of Italian and waving hands. Sea-bags clumped to
the deck, and they were on their own.
    Amati was clearly
tense, and answered the skipper in short, clipped phrases. 'He say he wan' you
to unnerstan' it ays forbidden to enter Venezia in th' night. We wait for day.'
    Griffith grunted. 'Very
well. Get sleep while you can, you men.' The three seamen found a place under a
tarpaulin forward, over the cargo in the open hold. This was a tighdy packed
mass of wicker baskets containing lemons, their fragrance eddying around them
as they bobbed to the night current.
     
    They awoke to a misty dawn, off a
long, low-lying coast stretching endlessly in each direction. They were not
alone: nearly two dozen other coastal traders were at anchor or moving lazily
across the calm sea, morning sounds carrying clearly across the water.
    Kydd rolled over. He saw Griffith
waiting for Amati to finish a voluble exchange with the skipper, but Renzi lay
still staring upward.
    'So we're t' see this
Venice, an' today,' Kydd said, with relish.
    Renzi's dismissive
grunt brought a jet of annoyance. His friend had become vexing in his moods
again, dampening the occasion and making Kydd feel he had in some way intruded
on private thoughts. 'M' chance t' see if it is as prime as ye say,' he
challenged. There was no intelligible response.
    Griffith clambered over to them,
steadying himself by the shrouds. 'The captain wishes you to be — shall we say?
— less conspicuous. Mr Amati says that there's every description of seaman in
Venice — Dalmatian, Albanian, Mussulmen, Austrians - and doubts we'll be
noticed, but begs we can wear some token of this part of the world.'
    He looked doubtfully at
Kydd's pea-coat and Larsson's short blue naval jacket. The crew members wore
the bonnet-rouge, the distinctive floppy red headgear, and a swaggering sash.
The Englishmen paid well over the odds for such common articles, which brought
the first expressions of amusement from the crew.
    The first diffuse tints
of rose and orange tinged the