The Privateer's Revenge Read Online Free Page B

of royal blue. This to the knowing signifies a royal regiment. Sir, he is a Royal Marine and has been since His Majesty in the year two did us the signal honour of recognising our services to the Crown of the last century or so.”
    â€œSah!” the colour sergeant blurted in satisfaction. “Loyal an’ royal it is. Sah!”
    â€œSo, you see, these are proud men and are entitled to their hon-ours. Should you take aboard Royal Marines you will find no more loyal and courageous a band of men anywhere.”
    Kydd glowered.
    â€œNow, let me see, I have the current sea roster here. Pray tell, where do you see your service mainly? What rate of ship? It does matter, you know.”
    â€œBrig-sloop, Channel Islands Squadron,” Kydd snapped.
    The officer sighed. “Not as who might say an active station.” He leafed through the book. “A brig-sloop, ship’s company of eighty—a hundred? Then you’ll be looking to a company of a sergeant, corporal and a score of privates.”
    â€œNo officer?” Kydd came back testily. Even a junior lieutenant would be better than none for no one in Teazer could talk soldier lingo enough to take charge.
    â€œNone. But you’ll find a Royal Marine is different from your regular soldier—more initiative, more reliable on his own.” He leaned back. “I’ll find you a long-service sergeant you might rely on, Commander. As for the men, it takes some two hundred Royal Marines to get a ship-o’-the-line to sea and I rather fancy you’ll have to be satisfied at this time with near a dozen.
    â€œHave no fear, sir, the men will be found. The barrack-master will need the details, of course, and I’m assuming you have made application for complement in the usual form. Our quartermaster will kit them for service and you shall have them before you sail. Good luck and good day to you, sir.”
    â€œOur marines at last, thank God,” Standish muttered peevishly, spying Teazer ’s longboat putting out from Stonehouse Pool.
    â€œI rather think they would wish to be referred to as Royal Marines, Mr Standish,” Renzi murmured, watching the boat full of red coats approach.
    â€œLobsterbacks,” Standish said. “Well, as long as they’re inboard and victualled in by noon we’ll be in a fair way of putting to sea before dark. Our lord and master is in a right taking, I tell you—wants to up hook and bowting the briny without losing a minute.”
    â€œYou’ve applied for a removal out of Teazer, ” Renzi said quietly.
    Standish looked at him sharply. “Who told you that?” His gaze swung back to the boat. “But it’s true enough. Since he’s crossed the admiral’s hawse there’s no hope o’ Teazer being put in the way of a good fight and chance of distinction—the Channel Islands, I ask you!” He continued moodily, “And it’s got to be said, since his dolly had the bad grace to get drowned he’s been knocked athwart and no use to any. I fear our Mr Kydd’s appetite for glory has gone, and with it any desire I have to stay in this ark of misery.”
    Renzi did not reply. The rot was setting in. Only the previous day they had lost Boyd, one of their only two midshipmen. There had been a rambling letter from his father about a fortunate placement in a ship-of-the-line but the real reason was obvious: society was unwilling for their sons and heirs to learn their officer-like qualities from someone of Kydd’s reputation. And none had come forward to take Boyd’s place; this was unfortunate for a midshipman counted as a petty officer and, among other things, could stand a watch in harbour under the mate-of-the-watch. It would not improve Prosser’s attitude.
    From his tiny cabin Renzi could not fail to overhear mess-deck conversations: at the moment the men were generally understanding of their captain’s grief but he