Invasion Read Free

friend until he was ready to talk.
    â€œM’ very dear Nicholas! Let’s strike your dunnage down and my apologies to ye, the ship being all ahoo like this. We’ll sup together tonight.”
    It was a brave showing. The great cabin had a dining table in the form of a grating on mess tubs, tastefully concealed beneath borrowed wardroom linen and quite passable in the golden candlelight.
    â€œI fear it could be short canny t’night,” Kydd said, as they entered. “Tysoe has been ashore an’ not had time for my cabin stores.” It was a small price to pay for his return to his ship.
    â€œShall you . . . ?” Renzi hesitated before the carpenter’s canvas easy-chair—or was it to be the boatswain’s stout high-back, which was said to be proof even against the frenzied movement of a fresh gale?
    Kydd settled into the boatswain’s chair and nodded to the awed purser’s steward, tasked with the honours of the evening in Tysoe’s absence. A light claret was forthcoming, glasses charged, and the two friends toasted their new situation with feeling.
    â€œNicholas, you must have something in your philosophies as should prepare a man for fortune’s sport,” Kydd remarked.
    Renzi shook his head with a smile. “As to that, dear fellow, who can say? Let us seize the hour and reck not the reasons. The workings of Fate are not to be comprehended by mortals, I’m persuaded.”
    Renzi looked gaunt, his eyes deep-set and lines in his face adding years to his age. Kydd regarded him with concern. At their lowest ebb, Renzi had travelled to Jersey and found menial employment with a titled foreign émigré. “You’ve suffered, m’ friend. That rogue y’ prince has worked ye near to death! I’ve a mind to say—”
    â€œLet it rest, brother,” Renzi said firmly. “I’ve a notion that the certainties of the daily round in dear old Teazer will set me up in prime kelter before long. What piques my curiosity at this time is whether my good friend Tom Kydd will be changed at all by wealth.”
    Kydd laughed. “Aye, it’s a grand thing not to worry at laying out for a new coat, or an evening with the ladies. But you should know as while I have m’ prospects, that scrovy prize-agent has his fee an’ then there’s y’r pettifoggers who feel free to take their fill o’ guineas afore ever I see ’em. I’m t’ settle a fair sum on my parents, I’ve decided, but the rest I’m putting away. Not in a bank as might fail, but the Funds. Consols at three per cent.”
    â€œYou’ll want to prettify Teazer handsomely, I believe,” Renzi murmured.
    â€œThe ship’ll have her gingerbread, it’s true, and m’ quarters are to be congenial. Topping it the swell at sea is t’ no account, though—’twould soon turn me soft as a milkmaid. No, Nicholas, your friend’ll not be changed by his circumstances.”
    â€œI’m gratified to hear it, brother.”
    Kydd grew thoughtful. “There is a one more matter—one o’ delicacy.”
    â€œOh?”
    â€œI’d surely want to see my dear friend right in th’ article o’ pewter as—”
    â€œThank you, but my needs are few and my modest income sufficient unto the day,” Renzi said, with finality. “Your riches were honestly gained and by your own hand. Do rejoice in them. If—if I should come by some misfortune, you can be assured that I shall indeed remember you.”
    A cautious knock sounded on the door. “Come!” Kydd called.
    It was Hallum with some papers. He took in of their dinner setting and made to leave, but Kydd motioned for him to join them at the “table.” “Pray don’t stand on ceremony, Mr. Hallum. Here, where is y’r glass, sir? Oh—I’m forgetting my manners. This is Mr. Renzi, a philosophical gentleman