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been sent over, so Kydd concentrated on what he had; a detached squadron was not a fleet, even if commanded by an admiral and there might be difficulties. Probably a fat sheaf of complex signal details would arrive the day they sailed, Kydd thought ruefully.
    The following day the pace had calmed. Gibraltar dockyard was not a major fleet base and had no vast stocks of sea stores.
    Men’s minds began to turn shoreward for the last opportunity to raise a wind for who knew how long. Liberty was granted to the trusties of the larboard watch until evening gun. Kydd knew where they would head—there were establishments enough in Irish Town alone to cater to an entire fleet.
    He and Renzi found time to share a pleasant meal at the Old Porter House on Scud Hill. They sank an ale on the terrace. The entire sweeping curve of Gibraltar Bay lay before them under the setting sun; Spain, the enemy, was a bare five miles distant.
    The two friends talked comfortably together of remembered places far away; unspoken, however, was any mention of the fire of war, which must soon reach out and engulf them both.
    Soon after breakfast, a midshipman appeared. “Mr Kydd, sir, and the cap’n desires to see you when convenient.”
    The coding of the summons indicated delay would not be in his interest and his pulse quickened as he remembered that the previous day Houghton had spent the whole afternoon and evening with Admiral Nelson. Kydd quickly mounted the companionway and knocked at the door.
    “Sir?” There was another captain with him, and a midshipman rigid to one side.

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    Houghton rose. “Thank you for your time, Mr Kydd. I believe you remember Captain Essington?”
    Kydd’s astonishment quickly turned to pleasure as he shook the hand of his captain in Triumph at the bloody battle of Camperdown, who had commended him to acting lieutenant in Tenacious. But for Essington’s intercession at his lieutenant’s examination, Kydd would have been for a certainty back before the mast.
    “He is flag-captain of Princess Royal, ” Houghton added.
    Essington’s face creased to a smile. “Lieutenant, if you are at leisure, it would gratify me should we take the air on the quarterdeck for a small while.”
    “Sir.”
    Kydd fell into step beside the eminent officer. “Your captain speaks highly of you,” Essington said at length. “A source of some satisfaction to me, that the Service has seen some benefit to my actions after Camperdown.”
    “You may rely on m’ duty, sir,” Kydd said stiffly.
    “I’m sure of it,” Essington returned. “But today I have come on quite a different mission”—he paused while they passed the quartermaster—“which I find delicate enough, in all conscience.”
    Kydd tensed. He had been puzzled that Houghton had held back to allow a senior flag-captain to talk directly with him, and now this admission of delicacy.
    Essington stopped pacing and faced Kydd. “The essence of it all is . . .”
    “Sir?”
    “My nephew, Bowden, has been sent to me in the character of midshipman to place upon the quarterdeck of Princess Royal. However, in short, I do not believe it in his best interest to serve in the same ship as his uncle. Neither do I feel a flagship of the Cadíz blockade a good place to learn the elements of his 3

Julian Stockwin
    profession. Captain Houghton has been good enough to agree to exchange him into Tenacious where he will join the gunroom and begin his education.”
    “Er, yes, sir.” Kydd could see no reason why he should be informed of such an arrangement.
    “I tell you this in order that you be under no apprehension that he is to be accorded any privileges whatsoever beyond those extended to his fellow young gentlemen. Notwithstanding his gentle birth—and you may understand he is my sister’s child—I desire that he be treated the same.”
    “Sir, with respect, I can’t see how this is a concern f’r me.”
    Essington smiled. “This is then the delicacy. It is my