Because of the gravity of the situation Renzi had overcome his scruples and resolved to warn Kydd of the ugly mood that was building, the savage opinions he had overheard and in charity forewarning him of worse to come. He had to make one last try to get through to Kydd. He entered the cabin after a polite knock and waited. It was difficult to broach after Kydd’s wild triumph, and Renzi controlled himself with effort. “If you only knew what coming to you like this is costing me in violation of my sensibilities—” “Then you’re free t’ go. An’ why you should come an’ waste my time with y’r mess-deck catblash I can’t think,” Kydd threw over his shoulder, then resumed scratching away with his quill. “May I know at least why we’re at anchor here instead of Guernsey?” The other vessels had retreated to the security of St Peter Port while they were again moored off Chausey Rocks, with a tired and fractious crew.
