an extreme hurry. Either way, he was thankful for the furnishings.
The marine sentry announced Buck’s arrival. “First Lieutenant, zur.” Buck entered and nodded his greeting to Bart and Silas.
“Well, Rupert, what do you think of her?” Anthony asked.
“To tell you the truth, sir, I’m in love. She’s a big ‘un all right, nigh onto 1,300 tons but she’ll sail as well as any keel-laid 38. I figure she’ll out-sail anything she can’t out gun.”
“What about the crew?” Anthony asked.
“We got two-hundred ninety-six aboard now. That’s twenty-four short, but the port admiral said he’d have us another two dozen before we sail. Probably clear out the prison hulks and such. However, we’re fortunate in our warrants. True professionals they are. Even with the purser. He can count, knows his weights, and seems more honest than most of his kind. Ole Peckham, the master off of
This brought a chuckle from Anthony.
“Gabe, your brother, is senior,” Buck continued. “He seems to have settled in well enough already. We got an Admiral’s nephew on board. His name is Frances Markham. He and Gabe seem to have hit it off well enough.”
Buck then took a breath and expelled a sigh. “Your brother-in-law, however, has sent us a little shit that could pass for a drowned rat along with a letter. I, ah, took the liberty of reading it since it wasn’t sealed or addressed to you privately.”
Anthony nodded.
“Seems the little fellow’s father was killed sudden-like. So as to help the boy’s mother out, the local squire used his influence with Hugh to help the young gentleman get a berth. Probably to get him outta the way, so to speak. All buxoms and smiles, I’m told!”
Anthony glared at Buck and exclaimed, “The young gentleman?”
“Ere, uh, no sir, Cap’n
“Cap’n? It’s time, Cap’n. Here’s ye a cup of coffee jes like ye like it. Silas is getting some hot water for your shave.”
Anthony raised himself and grunted his thanks to Bart. The coffee was scalding hot. He took a careful sip. This helped to wash away some of the leftover taste of cigars and brandy. It had been a tradition with Anthony since his first command to invite all the officers, warrants, and midshipmen to dine their first night underway. It was a good way to learn a bit about each. It was amazing what a captain could elicit from his officers after a good meal and a glass or two of wine. Often, the captain would discover strengths and weaknesses that might otherwise take weeks to discern. One frequently spied the petty tyrants, the snobs, etc. It was a trick his father had passed on to him. A second sip of coffee and Anthony realized Bart was in mid-sentence and he hadn’t heard the first of it.
“What’s that?” he asked Bart.
The cox’n eyed his captain. “More-n-usual with the spirits, Cap’n?”
“Hush! Damn your ugly eyes,” Anthony snarled.
“Huh!” snorted Bart. “I were telling ye the master, Mr. Peckham, said it was to be unseasonable warm today and we’s headed in the right general direction with a fair wind.”
Anthony couldn’t help but laugh even though it caused his head to hurt. “Right general direction.” That sounded like old Peckham, but God help the man who didn’t steer the course the master set.
Silas entered. “It’ll be light soon, Cap’n. Here’s yer breakfast and Mr. Buck would like to see ye soon as convenient, sir.”
“Very well. Have the sentry pass the word for Mr. Buck to lay to my cabin, and we’ll have a cup of coffee together.”
“Aye, sir,” Silas replied then departed.
Anthony could tell something was amiss as soon as Buck entered the cabin. “Sit you down, sir. You look ready to explode.”
‘Aye, Cap’n. It’s the fourth lieutenant, Mr. Witzenfeld, sir. He’s already placed a petty officer on report for disrespect.”
“How so?” Anthony questioned.
“Mr. Witz, that’s what they call Witzenfeld, sir, well, we had just called all hands to shorten sail, and Mr. Witz tells a new hand, a landsman, to lend a hand and clew up the sails. Well, sir, the poor sod was dumbfounded and just stood there gawkish like. That set Mr. Witz off. He started cussing and screaming at the man telling him to obey his orders or feel the cat. Avery, one of the bosun’s mates, attempted to explain what was wrong but then Witz jumped on him, berating him as the son of a worthless whore. He said, “When I give an order, it’s to be carried out by the person I gave it to.” By that time, most of the crew had gathered. Avery had had enough of Witz’s name calling and said to Witz, ‘E’s a bloody landsman, sir, can’t ye tell? ‘E ain’t got no fooking idea what crew up means. Mr. Witz then promised Avery a dozen lashes for his disrespect and insolence.”
Anthony shook his head upon hearing Buck’s tale. “A bad beginning.”
“Aye, cap’n, a bad one alright.”
Suddenly, a shrill scream broke the momentary silence. It was more like that of a child than a man. In a bound, Anthony and Buck were through the cabin door and up on deck. Dagan had a hold of Mr. Davy, the young midshipman the squire had made arrangements for. The lad was twisting, thrashing, and trying his best to get to the Fourth Lieutenant, Mr. Witzenfeld. However, it was Gabe who stood in front of the young boy, face to face with Witzenfeld. Dagan was speaking in a soothing fashion to calm and quiet the angry lad. Mr. Witzenfeld was touching a bloody lip. As he withdrew his hand from his mouth it went to the hilt of his sword, and he took a threatening step forward toward the young midshipman. Gabe was there, but it was Dagan who, releasing Mr. Davy, took a sudden step forward. His cold black eyes seemed to penetrate, and Witz’s body gave a sudden involuntary shudder. Mr. Witz stopped dead in his tracks, his skin turning pale as moisture broke out across his freckled forehead.
“Mr. Witzenfeld! To your cabin, sir,” Anthony ordered. He then turned to Gabe. “Mr. Anthony, see that Mr. Davy gets cleaned up and brought to my cabin forthwith.”
“Aye, aye, sir,” Gabe answered.
“Bart!”
“Here, Cap’n.”
“Follow me.”
“Aye, Cap’n.”
“Mr. Buck, you have the ship.”
“Aye, aye, sir.”
In the privacy of his quarters, Anthony turned to Bart. “Go talk with Dagan and maybe the master, Mr. Peckham. I saw him on deck. Talk with them in private, but get me their side of what just happened on deck.”
Ban nodded. As he was leaving, Anthony said, “Damme but this is a bad beginning,” Bart paused just inside the cabin door. He looked at Anthony and said, “Aye, cap’n, but sometimes it’s best to get rid of a bad apple afore it spoils the whole barrel.”
“Bad apple!” Anthony exclaimed. “Damn your eyes, you’re talking about a King’s officer.”
Bart replied, “Bad apples come in all forms, sir!” Then he was out the door. “Damn him,’’ Anthony thought. In ten years, the cox’n always seemed to get the last word.
At that time, the marine sentry announced, “Mr. Anthony, zur
When Gabe entered, Anthony asked, “Where’s Mr. Davy?”
“With the surgeon, sir.”
“Was he hurt?”
“Not outwardly, sir”
Anthony shook his head. “By outwardly you mean he’s hurting inside, as in his heart?”
“And his pride,” Gabe replied.
