Mutiny (12 page)
Renzi appeared not to
have heard, but then said distantly, 'It is, my friend.'
'A shame we can't step
ashore. I'd enjoy t' see the sights.'
Renzi responded
immediately: 'In Venice you'd see spectacle and beauty enough for a lifetime.'
He turned on Kydd with passionate intensity. 'There you'll find the most
glorious and serene expressions of the human spirit - and in the same place,
soul's temptation incarnate, licentiousness as a science, a pit of profligacy!
E sempra scostumata, if you'll pardon the expression.'
Kydd tried to resist
the smile pulling at his mouth; at last, this was the Renzi he remembered, not
the cheerless introspective he had seemed to become of late.
Renzi noticed and,
mistaking its origin, frowned in disapproval. 'This is also, I might point
out, the Venice of the Doge and his cruel prisons, where torture and death are
acts of state and the Council of Ten rules by fear.
'But it is also the Venice of carnival,'
he continued, in a softer voice. 'The masks will be abroad at this very time, I
think you'll find, and in the evening—'
'You've
been t' Venice before.'
Renzi looked away.
'Yes.' There was a pause before he went on: 'In the last years of the peace.
You will know it is the custom for the sons of the quality to perform a Grand
Tour. My companion and I knew no limits in the quest for education, you may
believe.'
Kydd waited for Renzi
to continue, and saw that it was causing him some difficulty. 'I was a different
being then, one whose appreciation of life as the aggregate of pain and heart's
desire was a litde wanting in the article of penetration to the particulars.'
Wondering what lay behind the careful
cloud of words, Kydd decided not to pursue it. He had not seen Renzi so
animated for a long time, but his features were a curious mixture of longing
and sadness. Whatever blue devils were haunting him, the proximity of the
fabled Venice had awakened life in him once more.
This far north the winds of spring
were chill and strong; the frigate closed the Italian coast that night, and
launched her cutter. It was too dark to make out much of the lonely figure of
the Venetian agent helped down into the boat, but Kydd felt for him, going out
alone into the unknown night.
Kydd knew the
general area from the charts — a long thin spit of land enclosing a vast lagoon
inside it, with the island of Venice in the middle. The agent had insisted they
come no closer than the southern corner of the lagoon, the fishing-port of Chioggia,
which now lay somewhere out in the darkness.
The cutter's sails went
up and were sheeted home smartly, the boat quickly disappearing into the murk.
After some hours it returned on time, magically reappearing under their lee
having sighted the special red-white-red lanthorns set as a signal, and without
the agent. Bacchante lost no time in making for the safety of the open sea, to
spend the daylight hours in standing off and on.
It was
disappointing — the whole mystery of Venice just out of sight, and one they
would not see — for in the absence of any English opposition the French were
rampaging down Italy in an unstoppable wave and could be anywhere. It was not a
place to linger more than was necessary.
They returned
that night; the agent would have news or, better, the important person himself,
presuming all was well ashore. They could soon be in a position to crowd on all
sail, turn about and fly back to Gibraltar.
Kydd didn't know whether to be pleased
at an early return to Emily or dismayed at the prospects of reverting to his
fractious, low-spirited ship. Emily's image seemed oddly unreal in his mind's
eye, and he was uneasily aware that the hot sap that had risen before was gone.
He sought out his friend, who as usual
was to be found on the foredeck with his clay pipe, taking advantage of the
frigate's easy motion and looking pensively out to seawards.
'You think I'm pixie-led, quean-struck
on her?' Kydd blurted, after a while.
Renzi turned to him, amused. 'Not as one
might say.' Did his friend think that he was the first to be infatuated with an
older woman? His own past was not one he could hold as an exemplar. In this
very place he and his fellow young gentlemen on the Grand Tour had been
shamelessly dissolute, uncaring and unfeeling as any young and careless sprig
of nobility. But Kydd's honesty and sincerity in his voyage of self-discovery
touched something in Renzi. 'Cupid casts his spells unevenly, capriciously, we
cannot command his favours. If she has not been blessed in full measure with
the same warmth of feeling as yourself, then ...' 'She has!'
'Oh? You said before
that she hadn't declared her feelings for you, had not thrown herself at your
feet.' Kydd remained silent, frowning. 'When you volunteered for this mission,
there was no urgent message, no beseeching to keep from danger.' He paused
significandy. 'In fine, your ardour exceeds hers?
Kydd reddened but said
stubbornly, 'She'll be waitin' for me, see if she don't.'
'It might be the more rational course to
allow her time to reflect. Cool your fervency, steady your pace — haul away,
keep an offing, so to speak.'
'Aye, I c'n see this,
but y' see, my course is set. Nicholas, before we sailed I sent her a letter, a
warm letter in which - in which I made m' feelings known.'
'Good
God!'
'I wanted t' set her right about
things. Make sure she knows — makes no mistake about m' passion.'
'May
I know, er, what you said in this letter?'
It took some
embarrassing prodding but the full story was not long in coming. In Kydd's own
strong round hand it had opened with flowery darlings, then plunged into hot
protestations of undying love, the usual heights and depths, and — was such
innocence believable? - a final urging to find it in her heart to break with an
unhappy, sterile marriage and flee with him to Paradise.
Renzi shook his head
wordlessly. Then he said, 'If you sent the letter in the usual way, the husband
might have intercepted it'
'I know,' Kydd said impatiendy. 'I
took steps t' have it delivered personally.'
'My dear fellow - dear brother.' Renzi
took a deep breath. 'Might I point out to you what you have just done? If, as I
suspect, your lady is as yet — unformed in her affections, then your 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 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.