The Reaper

Anthony and Deborah’s engagement and wedding announcements were on the packet. Anthony saw the surgeon sitting on crate near the forecastle with several men gathered around him. One was very near him and the others sat a respectful distance away. The surgeon was reading mail for the men who couldn’t. Anthony was never certain if the surgeon was being kind-hearted or if he was just nosy. Bart strode up and declared, “Funny ‘haint it, cap’n. Half them buggers can’t read nor write, but they’s always getting mail.” It did amaze Anthony. He knew several officers that not only read letters for the men but also would even write home for them upon occasions. Sometimes a seaman who was more educated would provide these services for his mates. Anthony had gone back to his cabin and had just finished a letter from his agent in London when the marine sentry hit the deck with the butt of his musket and shouted. “Lt. Anthony, Zur.” The loud noise and the marine’s shout startled Anthony. Without thinking he cursed, “Damme man, but we’re between decks, not on the parade field.” As Gabe entered Anthony was still muttering, “Thinks he’ll make corporal but he’s lucky I don’t keel haul him.” Gabe had to laugh at his brother, causing Anthony to smile at his irritability.

“Sit down Gabe. Silas, a glass if you will. Claret would not be amiss.” Anthony bellowed to his servant, mocking the sentry’s recent outburst.

Gabe had become a more frequent visitor since he’d been asked to be “best man.” He always made sure it was at appropriate times, such as when “make and mend” had been passed. Today, Gabe had a letter in his hand, which he handed to Anthony and said, “Does this mean what I think it does?”

After peering at the letter Anthony responded. “If you’re asking if you’re a wealthy man, then the answer is yes.”

Anthony had talked Gabe into letting his prize agent in London handle Gabe’s prize and head money. Anthony tapped his own letter which he’d laid on the table and said, “It appears we’re both well off. There’s enough to hold us for a while if we wind up on half pay after this commission is complete.”

Gabe looked at his brother, suddenly very serious. “Do you think we’ll wind up on the beach, sir?”

Anthony found that even he was disturbed by that question. Not about the possibility of being without a ship, but the very likelihood of war with the colonies. “No, Gabe. With the shaping hostilities, I believe as the commodore does. Lord North has pushed too far, and we-men like you and me-will pay for his arrogance. Soldiers and sailors alike will die. I only pray we are spared.”

“Dagan has family in the colonies.”

The statement was so out of the blue Anthony was taken aback. “Dagan does?”

“Yes, sir. He and mother’s family lived in Guernsey. They were Huguenots and moved to Guernsey from France thinking they’d find greater acceptance being French Protestants. But life was hard. Dagan’s father, my grandfather, was first mate on a snow and eventually was given his own ship, but had to move to Chatham. Without family being close by, Dagan’s uncle moved to the colonies with Lord Burgoyne. Lord Burgoyne’s offer of land and horses were more than he could resist. Now Uncle Andre has a large farm and breeds some of the finest horses in Virginia.”

After Gabe left, Anthony found himself dwelling on just how little he knew of Gabe’s family on his mother’s side. He’d believed the rumors of Gabe’s mother being a gypsy lady because it had been convenient. Dagan certainly had the appearance and mystique of a gypsy. But just what did being a gypsy mean anyway? The thought was still with Anthony when he drifted off to sleep that evening. He awoke sweating. He had been dreaming that Dagan had charmed then beheaded a great sea monster that was about to engulf Drakkar and her entire crew. In his dream, Dagan had been a sorcerer. A gypsy sorcerer.

Chapter Fifteen

Gabe was helping with some re-fittings on board Rascal. While making sure the repairs were done satisfactorily, Gabe and Lieutenant Pope had been in a general discussion of possible ways to locate the pirate’s lair. Gabe noticed a shadow on the deck, and when he looked up he found Bart and Anthony peering down at their handiwork.

“Told ya,” Bart was saving to Anthony. “‘E’ll make a fair bosun iffen he ain’t found suited to be an ossifer.”

“Damn you, Bart,” Gabe snorted.

“See ‘e’s already talking like a bosun, cap’n. Bless me if he ain’t.”

Having given the two time to insult one another good-naturedly, Anthony said to Gabe, “Lieutenant Buck says you got some ideas on how to go about finding the pirate’s supply base.”

“Well, sir,” Gabe started, “I’ve been talking with Lieutenant Pope, and it’s really his idea. He thinks we might use Shark to get a closer look at several of the coves and inlets around some of the smaller islands and cays where we’re likely to find the pirates. There is liable to be places the other ships can’t get close to without causing a stir.”

“You think they’ll just let you sail in, spy on their operation, then allow you to sail off again without cutting at least a few throats?”

“No, sir. We thought we might get the loan of some marines from Lieutenant Dunn to give us a few extra fighting men. We’d keep them out of sight of course, and leave off our uniforms, dressing like some of the rogues we’ve captured. We will rendezvous at certain times and locations.”

“What if you get into trouble?” Anthony asked his energetic brother.

“Well sir, you’ll always be close-stay in sight of the masthead lookout. If there’s trouble we can send up a flare.”

Anthony nodded. He’d been thinking along those same lines once the idea had been presented. Anthony also knew Gabe wanted command of the ketch, but this was a job for someone who had more experience. He would let Gabe go along as second, but Lieutenant Pope, who in the past had commanded a cutter and a brig, had the necessary experience as well as the knowledge of the local waters. Looking at Gabe, Anthony said, “And who do you think should lead this search?”

“Ere-I was hoping to sir, but I’d be glad to second Lieutenant Pope. I’m sure he’ll be your choice.”

“Aye, that he is,” Anthony agreed. “But don’t you worry. You’ll get your command soon enough. And who knows? This little trip may even present us with another little prize to fatten your purse.”

This comment brought a smile to Gabe’s face even though Anthony sensed his disappointment.

***

It had been three days since the flotilla had beat its way out of English Harbour on a heading that most merchantmen would use going to Barbados. Drakkar and her consorts would lie hove to or move along under reduced sail while the ketch, Shark, made her way through the shallows around Dominica, Martinique, St. Lucia and finally St. Vincent. Now it was time to rendezvous as planned and sail into Barbados. Though disappointed at coming up empty-handed in their pursuit of the pirate’s lair, Anthony had to admit Pope knew his business. The trip was not a total waste, as Anthony felt the experience was needed for the new hands. They were already decent seamen, but they needed to learn the Navy way of doing things. As McMorgan, the bosun, was so fond of saying, “They’s the right way, the wrong way, and then there’s the King’s way. From this day forward, lads, its me duty to teach you the King’s way.”

Standing on his quarterdeck, Anthony watched ships of various sizes and descriptions coming and going as Drakkar made her approach into Barbados. Most were traders, but a few were naval vessels and one was a sleek yacht. Small boats could be seen plying their way between shore and anchored ships. A water hoy was tied up alongside a brig. Lord Howe was there in his flagship, the sixty-four gun Eagle. She was old, her keel having been laid somewhere around 1740. She had been with Rodney’s squadron off Cape Finisterre in 1747. Drakkar having begun her life as a sixty-four, suggested comparison to Eagle. Drakkar’s lines appeared to be sleeker, and she didn’t appear to be as broad in the beam. Eagle would never have been the fast sailor Drakkar was, Anthony decided.

“Damn the French. But they knew how to build ships,” Anthony said aloud without realizing it.

“Sir?”