The Reaper

Buck spoke up. “Sir, let’s put some of the prisoners to work putting Rascal back together. Lieutenant Dunn’s marines can keep them covered.”

“Aye,” chimed in the bosun. “And a bare-o-net in the arse once in awhile to keep the whoresons moving wouldn’t be amiss I’m thinking.”

Bart had walked up during the last of the conversation and heard the bosun’s comments. He’d come to tell Anthony that Gabe and Dagan were alongside, and would be present any minute. Seeing the look in Anthony’s eyes almost frightened him. He’d never seen such a determined look. He spoke his feelings aloud, “I wouldn’t want to be that damn pirate as he headed back toward Drakkar. ‘The Grim Reaper.’ Well, he ain’t seen bloody grim like the shit for brains sod is gona see now he’s done crossed with me cap’n.” Buck wondered if Bart would ever stop calling Anthony captain, but he agreed with Bart’s statement.

Dagan had overtaken Bart, and overhearing his words, added, “Aye! I feels his time is nigh but ‘e won’t go quietly. He’ll be gone, but not quietly.”

Chapter Thirteen

The sight of the small flotilla limping into English Harbour created a different type of stir than previous times when Anthony’s squadron proudly sailed its prizes in. Much of Rascal’s damage had been temporarily repaired, but huge scars still remained, attesting to the battering that she’d taken. Commodore Gardner had met them in a guard boat.

Upon hearing how the Reaper had viciously attacked Rascal, the commodore waxed livid. “He’s trying to goad you, make you make a mistake Gil, so be careful. You’re hurting him with all the prizes you’ve taken and men you’ve either killed or captured. He’s got to do something.”

Anthony understood the wisdom in Gardner’s words. Before going ashore, the commodore vowed, “We’ll fix up Rascal. The dockyard will work night and day if they have to, but we’ll have repairs completed so Rascal can return to her duties before you know it.”

The entire attitude seemed to change on the island of Antigua. The islanders had come to look at the men under Anthony’s command as their own. Now, everyone felt the loss of Lieutenant Pitts and many of his crew. The increasing reports of hostilities between England and the colonies only added to the people’s anger. The hostilities were now rumored to have gone beyond verbal. The master of a mail packet had just returned from Halifax. Word had gotten to the commander in chief of that station that colonial men in whale boats would dash out of hidden creeks and coves to harass British ships tiding at anchor in Boston Harbour. The master went on to say they had removed channel buoys and had gone so far as to burn lighthouses. Needless to say, the concern was great, and British forces in the colonies were having a time deciding who was loyal and who was not. It was not uncommon for a father to profess loyalty to the crown while his son openly chose rebellion. Some of the would-be loyalists kept quiet for fear of reprisals from rebellious colonists. The British soldiers stationed in the colonies were vastly out- numbered, and could do little by way of affording protection. Many felt Lord North could have done more to halt the escalating difficulties.

Standing behind the desk in his office,

Commodore Gardner peered down at the ships

anchored in the harbor. He had to squint to keep

the sun from hurting his eyes. Angrily, he snatched

the curtains together to block out the blinding rays.

“Lord North underestimates the colonies, Gil, I

tell you. He takes them too lightly. They’ll fight

and fight like no enemy we’ve dealt with in the

past. I doubt they’d stand at ranks and fire as if on

parade. Nay, it’ll be hit and run. They’ve fought

the native Indians, and they’ve learned their tactics

well.”

Peering once more out of his office window,

Commodore Gardner made one more comment. It

was more a prediction. “Lord North and Parliament has bitten off more than they can chew. If he doesn’t learn to respect the abilities of the colonials we’ll lose this war. Mark my word sir, we’ll lose.”

***

After leaving Government House, Anthony

went to “the cottage.” Lady Deborah was waiting

and offered a warm greeting. However, she could

see Anthony was despondent and angry over the

news from the colonies, on top of Rascal’s near

destruction by the Reaper. But beyond Anthony’s

anger was a feeling of despair and hurt from losing

Merle Pitts and so many of Rascal’s crew. Deborah

had never seen this side of her man, and was

moved by his sincerity. He cares for those he commands.

No wonder his officers and men respond to him as they do,

she thought.

“He tried so hard to please me,” Anthony was saying, speaking of Pitts. “He was always eager and carefree unless the need arose. Then he could be very serious. He would have made a fine captain.” Anthony had written to Pitts’s father. The letter included not only comments about the young man’s bravery and ultimate sacrifice, but also some of the pleasurable times they’d had. When Anthony had finished the letter he laid it down and said, “Words seem so hollow. How do you tell a father his son is gone, and at the same time try to ease his pain by telling him Merle died heroically while doing his duty in some far corner of the world that he’s probably never even heard of? That his body was buried at sea and therefore there will be no grave to visit? How do you say all these things? It sounds so cheap saying he gave his life for England.”

Anthony took his pipe and walked to the porch to light up. Seeing the letter lying open on the table, Deborah picked it up and read it. Reading the letter she couldn’t help but cry. Laying the letter on the table and using her handkerchief to wipe the tears from her eyes, she rushed out onto the porch and took Anthony in her arms.

“Oh, Gil, you wonderful man. Your letter was so perfect. I wanted to stand up and shout. No one could have said better about Merle and made him sound so heroic. His father will be hurt, but he’ll be proud.”

Later that night as Anthony was holding Deborah, she snuggled even closer and whispered to him, “Ever consider marrying an old widow woman who has proved she’s utterly shameless?”

Anthony sat up, wide awake. He looked her in the eyes and said, “Do you really mean it?”

“Yes, my brave captain.”

Anthony pulled her closer and kissed her. Their lovemaking seemed to make him feel whole again. Later in the wee hours of the morning he spoke, “Deborah!”

“Yes, Gil.”

“You’ve made me the happiest man in the world.”

“And I’m the happiest woman in the world,” she replied.

“You hungry?” Anthony asked.

“No.”

“I’m not talking about food, Deborah.”

“Oh, you dirty man. I’m starved.”

***