of the ship's progress. Seven knots at least Gabe thought. It was almost as if the ship couldn't wait to join the rest of Lord Anthony's squadron.
It was rejuvenating to feel the wind and the motion of the ship as it climbed a wave only to dip its bow into a trough then rear up to meet another wave. The occasional spray that came amidship was refreshing even if it did cause the sunburn on Gabe's face to sting somewhat. After al the frustrations and pain suffered these past few weeks, Gabe couldn't help but question himself. Did he do right by leaving the convoy to go after a single ship? Admiral Gayton had stressed the need for the gunpowder. ' Britain is hamstrung by these damnable shortages' had been Gayton's words. But would they hold up in a court martial? At least he could say he kept it from the Colonials. But what about Gil? What would his reaction be, Gabe wondered? Would he have acted as he had done? Or would Gil have stayed with the convoy? Gabe knew Gil had stretched matters by putting Markham aboard the Swan and sending her on
dispatch without ever sending her through the prize courts.
He would be given some discretion as an admiral, but if the truth of the real mission to rescue Gabe was ever publicized then like his father Gil may have to haul down his flag and retire. The thought sent an involuntary shudder through Gabe.
'You cold?'
Gabe had not been aware of Caleb and Dagan as they walked up on him. He now sat in their shadow.
'You cold?' Caleb repeated.
'Could be the smell of the gal ey,' Dagan spoke without giving Gabe a chance to respond to Caleb.
Continuing, Dagan said, 'Smell s like greasy slush. Just what we need to put some meat back on those bones, boiled beef hacked into a mixture of soggy ship's biscuits with a little slush on top. That'll put the weight back on you.'
'Or kill him one,' Caleb chimed in as he set on the bulwark.
Dagan squatted between them, and took out his pipe, and fill ed his bowl, speaking softly, 'It's a hard time we have ahead of us but I've a feeling you two will find what you're looking for.'
Neither Caleb nor Gabe spoke as Dagan put his back to the wind, and with cupped hands soon had his pipe lit, sending an aromatic smell down the length of the ship which al but overcame the odor from the gal ey funnel.
Another shadow appeared, causing the group to look up. It was Lum. He squatted next to Dagan and lit his own pipe. Not a meerschaum like Dagan's but a simple corn cob pipe with a straight stem. As the four sat together, Swan made her way up the coast in a ghostly silent manner.
Looking to larboard, Lum said what they were al feeling. 'They's watching us, they knows we heah!
Trouble is we don't know what they's about.' Then Lum took his lotz from inside his shirt and after licking his lips played another of his sad melodies.
Looking at the black man whose black hair gleamed from ocean spray and specks of gray, Gabe thought, damned if he doesn't have the uncanny knack of playing a tune to fit my mood.
Later that night as the sky darkened, the men off watch slung their hammocks and everybody seemed to be in his own world. Gabe lay down in his cot in the captain's cabin. Markham had been very gracious, sharing his cabin with him. Lying there, the familiarity of the ship seemed to ease his troubled mind. While he wasn't back on the SeaWolf, he was at sea in an environment in which he knew and was comfortable in.
This was the salve his soul needed.
The dawn broke with the promise of a much different day. Davy, bright and cheerful, as ever sidled up to Gabe, 'Master says we'll get wet today.'
'Well, I'd never question the master,' Gabe replied, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Years of service at sea made him an early riser…but he'd never be a good riser.
Seeing Gabe on deck, Markham walked over to his friend. 'Get the cob webs cleared yet?' Gabe's answer was a yawn.
'Nantucket is off to larboard,' Markham explained,
'I want to stay well out so we want have to play errand boy to some self important captain or another admiral.
If al goes well, we should meet up with Lord Anthony tomorrow.'
Towards noon the master's prediction came true. A heavy drizzle started and the sky turned gray matching the sea which was getting up. Markham crossed the deck and the man at the wheel volunteered, 'She be steady, sir,' nor'by-east, full and bye.' Markham nodded and seemed to be on edge.
' Massachusetts is home to some of the most able privateers. We can't let our guard down this close to home. While you were…ere…in the southern colonies Gabe, a dispatch schooner was headed to New York and was taken by the brigantine, Trannicide, fourteen guns. Her Captain Fisk is without a doubt a capable man.'
'Deck there! Sail, no two sails dead ahead off the starboard bow.'
Gabe and Markham both gave a knowing look to each other. 'Mr. Davy!'
'On my way captain.' Davy didn't wait to be told.
Upon hearing the sighting he'd grabbed a glass and was making his way towards the shrouds before Markham could cal out.
Looking at Gabe, Markham said, 'Cheeky little bugger. Thinks he has me figgered out does he?'
'Aye, that he does,' Gabe replied noticing Dagan headed toward him with Lum in tow.
'It's a brigantine grappled to another ship, sir, maybe a corvette.'
Dagan and Gabe looked at one another, could it be the same ship they'd met off the South Carolina border?
'Are you sure, Mr. Davy?'
'Aye, sir, I'm sure and it's a fight they're having, I'm thinking. You can see muzzle flashes.'
'Very well,' Markham replied, then turning to Lieutenant Harrel, 'Beat to quarters if you will, sir. It appears we've work to do today.'
Harrel stood by the wheel while Gabe and Markham discussed the strange sail. Would the corvette, if that was what she truly was, recognize Swan?
Would her captain know she had been taken? These were al questions that passed between Gabe and Markham; questions but no answers. However, in these waters you could choose a dozen possibilities and al spelled trouble.
'Deck there! She's definitely a corvette, sir.' Well, if Davy was that sure then they had a fight on their hands.
'She'll have twenty guns at least,' Markham replied.
'Aye,' Gabe answered, 'But if we've seen them then likely the schooner she attacked has spotted us as well so maybe that will put the odds in our favor.'
'We'll know soon enough I imagine,' Markham answered and then turned his voice to the lookout,
'Keep watching her, Davy.'
Gabe waited for the deck to steady as Swan's bow dipped through a swell and then he trained his glass on the two ships. They were close enough now.
Individuals could be made out. With only a small crew, Swan would be hard put to give a good accounting for herself.
With Gabe, Dagan, Lum and Caleb the total number on board was only seventy-six. She needed ninety to properly fight. Gabe was sure the privateer had double their number on board. Hopeful y, the schooner would have enough survivors left to lessen the odds.
'You going to close and fight her, sir?' said Lieutenant Harrel.
Markham 's reply was short and terse, 'Would you have me turn our heels and abandon yonder ship sir?' Experience, Gabe thought. The man lacked experience. It had never occurred to Markham to do anything but fight.
It was his duty. The gunner approached Markham, knuckled his forehead and announced, 'Cleared for action sir, al guns loaded.'
Swan carried fourteen six-pounders and half a dozen swivels. The Swan was now on a converging tack,
