The following day was no different than most days at sea. Overnight the wind had backed some but it was still ’a soldier wind.' The schooner's sails were impressive and Markham knew how to handle the Swan.
They were on a heading almost due north. The water along the leeside seemed to be rushing past as evidence 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, bowsprit to bowsprit, like two knights engaging in a joust. Dagan was on deck now bringing with him Gabe's sword and pistols. So near the admiral's squadron, yet so far away. Lum was with Dagan, seeing him Gabe felt a pang of sorrow for this man involved in a war where regardless of who won his station in life would differ but little.
"Lum."
"Yes, suh."
"You do not have to fight this battle. You can go below until it's over."
"You's going to fight ain't ya, Mister Gabe?"
"Aye, Lum, that I am, but it's my duty."
"Well suh, it's my duty to watch over you like I done promised Missy Faith I'd do. So we's both got our duties to do."
Gabe knew it would be pointless to try to dissuade the man farther. He instead turned to Dagan, "Help Lum pick out a good weapon."
"Aye," Dagan replied. Then as the two walked off Gabe had another thought.
"Lum."
"Yes, suh?"
"We aren't fighting masters, plantation overseers or white men, we're fighting the enemy, do you understand that? A man's color doesn't matter."
"Yes suh, I understand, it's kill or be kilt." After Lum and Dagan went to collect weapons for themselves, Gabe approached Markham. " Frances, what would you have me do? I'm at your disposal." Despairingly Markham shook his head, "It's a fool's errand Gabe. How can we do anything but make a gesture. However, we've been in worse shapes haven't we, old friend?"
"That we have," Gabe replied.
"I'm about to fire the forward guns then have the rest of the guns fire as we come abreast. The swivels are loaded with grape. I figure our only chance is to grapple and board. we'll never stand a chance against twenty twelve-pounders. I was going to send Harrel forward and I was going to position my party amidships.
If you're bound to get yourself shot at you can take a party aft. Hopeful y, we'll meet in the middle."
"We'll meet," Gabe responded and shook Markham 's hand, "Take care my friend, have a care."
"Take in the mainsail Mr. Harrel. Run up the colors Mr. Davy. Fire as you bear. Let's give them a taste of British steel."
Markham was right. The privateer was heavily armed and there was a score of men on deck. The forward gun went off and someone fired a swivel at the same time, a double percussion… BOOM! BANG!…startled Gabe.
Then one by one, Swan's remaining six guns fired.
However, the enemies' guns were not silent and with a thunderous crash a hole was blasted through forward, uplifting the number one gun which landed on its side crushing several crewmen. A gaping hole was now where a gun port had been. Shot after shot plowed into the Swan. Most however went high as consideration had not been taken to fact that Swan being a smaller ship set lower in the water. The starboard bulwark had taken a beating with only a few sections left standing.
The mainmast had a gash in it that sent splinters flying and blinding one of the bosun mates. Riggings were taken a beating but so far everything that was supposed to be aloft was still aloft.
He could now hear the shouts and curses as men fought. The schooner's people gave a cheer as Swan's hull dug into the privateer's hull and come to a grinding halt. Grapnels were heaved and while some were being made tight, others were used by men to swing over and climb up the bigger ship.
Gabe, Dagan, Lum and a group al boarded onto the bow of the corvette. A group of cursing men was there waiting on them and with screams and threats the two groups collided. Lum met his attacker first and a wicked blow from a boarding axe caused a handspike to clatter on deck as the man holding it found his hand was
now only holding on to his arm by a small piece of flesh.
Screaming, he broke and ran.
Gabe found himself fending off a rogue who knew how to handle a cutlass, however he was to aggressive and fel for a feint Gabe made which opened his guard and Gabe's sword plunged into the man's armpit causing blood to spurt. Startled shouts and musket shots seemed to be coming from every direction.
Gabe suddenly became angry, wildly angry. Al the vented frustrations seem to let loose at once. A man with a bayoneted musket tried to fire only to realize he'd not reloaded after firing the last shot so he lunged at Gabe with the bayonet that Gabe deftly deflected then shot the man with his pistol. He then ducked as a man slashed at him with a blade only to fall to Lum's axe.
"This way men, this way ` Swannies`," that was Markham rallying the men. Another loud sound from amidships, a swivel had been fired. Looking across the privateer's deck, Gabe realized what looked like a pile of rubbish was actual y dead bodies.
Another privateer brandishing a boarding pike and pistol attacked Dagan. However, slipping in blood Dagan fel causing his own weapon to go off taking the top of the man's skull off. Above the den of clashing steel, musket and pistol shots, screams and curses Gabe could hear the sudden cheers of men. Theirs or ours, he wondered.
"To midships," he cal ed to his group, "Make your way to midships." Continuing to fight, the battle seemed less furious. Davy stood over a man rolling on
the deck; his dirk was sticking from the man's chest.
Blood ran down Davy's hand. As the man tried to raise and fire his pistol Dagan raised a boarding pike and crashed it down across the man's skull.
"Dat one was already dahyd and ’jus didn't know it," Lum declared.
Struggling over upended guns Gabe realized Swan's guns did more than he had first thought. The fighting had al but ended, as Gabe's group made their way past sprawled bodies and wounded men crawling, begging for help.
Then suddenly one last group of privateers seemed to rise up in defiance. Their leader swung a boarding axe that made a swooshing sound as Gabe ducked under its blade. As he ducked he lost his footing and landed heavy on his backside only to be jerked up by Dagan who quipped, "No time for sitting down on the job now."
The man who swung the blade was now on the deck in a big puddle of blood. When Gabe looked further the man appeared to have a third eye. One created by a musket bal courtesy of Swan's marine sharpshooters. Now that the resistance had almost ended, Gabe's group made their way to Markham 's group. Markham turned to greet Gabe when Davy shouted, "Look out sir!" Just in time Markham jumped backwards. His attacker had sliced open his coat with a heavy cutlass. Markham felt an instant burning sensation to his stomach and felt a warm wetness when he touched the area with his hand. Then the man with
his blade held high above his head yelled a curse and lunged at Markham.
Using his own blade to take the brunt of the blow a numbing shock seemed to penetrate his shoulder. As the two blades clashed a sudden fear gripped Markham, and with a bloody hand he removed his knife from his belt. His attacker, a much bigger man, was fill ed with blood lust and seemed to be ignorant that the battle was lost. Once again, raising his cutlass in an arc over his head the man swung his blade with al his might. Had the aim been true it would have kill ed, but again Markham used his blade to deflect the other's cutlass, but this time he only partial y deflected the blade and by giving some and side-stepping, his opponent became off balance and fel forward exposing his flank. As he did so Markham drove his knife blade deep to the hilt, right into the man's kidney. The man fel into a pile then as one, the Swannies broke into cheers. The tired but jubilant men clapped their friends' back and shook each other's hands.
"So we can't do anything but make a gesture," Gabe asked recalling Markham 's words. "Well, damme sir, but I think we just made one hell of a gesture."
"Aye," Markham replied, "But we couldn't have done it without your help."
"Cap'n!"
"Yes, Mr. Davy."
"The brigantine's captain requests to see you, sir, but he's wounded so you'll have to go to him."
"Very well. Where's Mr. Harrel?"
"He's…ah…he's been wounded, sir," Davy replied with a snicker.
"Something about Mr. Harrel being wounded humours you, sir?"
"Aye, cap'n, when he was boarding he slipped and fel on the prong of a grappling hook."
"Is his injury serious, Mr. Davy?"
"I…don't…think so, but it's the first time I ever seen a man grapple his own arse, sir." The crew upon hearing Davy's words howled in laughter.
"Mr. Davy!" Markham scowled at the youth while trying to suppress his own laughter. "You better hope the lieutenant is not laid up too long because you'll be doing his duties."
As Gabe and Dagan turned away, Lum innocently asked, "What's he mean, grapple his arse?" Which set the crew to howling again. Turning, Gabe saw Markham giving him the eye, so he grinned, shrugged and went back to board the Swan.
Gabe was at the point of boarding the Swan when he heard a commotion. Turning he saw Davy with his pistol drawn at a man who was apparently trying to make his way below on the privateer. Since Markham was tending the schooner's captain, Gabe decided to investigate.
"What do we have here, Mr. Davy?"
"Frenchman, sir, trying to slip below. He's slowly worked his way from midships to the companion ladder, sir. I thought his actions were suspicious so I watched and stopped him as he was making his move to get below."
Dagan was patting the man down for weapons and found a key in the man's coat pocket. Turning to Gabe he said, "He's no crewman…officer…and more than likely he's the captain." The key on a gold chain swung from Dagan's hand emphasizing the suspicion.
Gabe nodded, "Go below and see if there's a magic box this key may fit."
"Aye," Dagan replied and taking Lum in tow headed down to the captain's cabin.
Gabe then turned his attention to the prisoner,
"You are French?"
"Oui, m'sieu, I am from France."
"What ship is this?"
"She is Le Frelon."
"The Hornet," Gabe replied.
"Oui, the Hornet."
"Well, m'sieu, I think she's stung her last British ship." The Frenchman seemed nonchalant and only shrugged.
"You commanded her?" Gabe asked.
"Oui, I've had the pleasure."
"Do you know you'll hang for this, your act of piracy?" Gabe continued.
"I think not," the man answered, "We are not pirates. We are privateers. I have a letter of Marque from the Marine Committee in Philadelphia."
"What is your name," Gabe asked.
The Frenchman smiled, "Au, we have forgotten the courtesies, have we not? I am Capitaine Francois Robeaud." The man's continued use of the word ’oui and Г u was starting to anger Gabe who thought, "oui hell! " However, formalities required he be civil.
"I am Lieutenant Gabriel Anthony."
"Do you command the ship?" Robeaud asked, indicating the Swan.
"I do not, sir, that privilege belongs to Lieutenant Frances Markham. He is presently with the brigantine's captain."
It then occurred to Gabe that Markham should be present. "Mr. Davy!"
"Aye, sir."
"Would you be so kind as to give my regards to Captain Markham and if convenient could he return to the prize."
"Aye, cap'n…ere sir.'
"Bosun!"
"Sir?"
"As soon as the prisoners are well secured take a party and search this ship." Gabe ordered.
"Aye, sir," the bosun replied then gathering up a party made his way below.
Turning back to the corvette captain, Gabe said,
"Tell your crew to behave and they will be treated fairly, otherwise…"
"I cannot, m'sieu."
"Well, you damn well better," Gabe growled,
"Because I promise you sir, that should they try any mischief or attempt to damage this vessel in any way they will be fired upon without any quarter. The choice is up to you."
"What choice is that?" Gabe turned to see Markham had arrived. He introduced Robeaud to Markham, and then explained his comments.
Markham then faced Robeaud.
"As I recall sir, your men threw down their arms but you never came forth and gave your formal surrender."
"Because I have not," Robeaud replied.
"It is with regret then sir, but I deem your actions less than honorable and place you under arrest. Mr. Davy, see that the prisoner is properly secured on board the Swan."
"I protest," Robeaud cried, "This is absurd."
"Protest al you desire captain, Markham answered,
"But arrested you are."
At that time, Dagan came back on deck. "I think we've found something of interest."
Turning, Gabe saw the obvious bulge in Dagan's pockets and Lum's shirt appeared to protrude. "Damn," Gabe thought. "I hope Markham doesn't become interested in what's in their pockets and shirt." As Gabe and Markham went down to the captain's cabin Lum stood aside and then made his way back to the Swan. Letting Markham go ahead, Gabe whispered to Dagan, "Surely your not turning Lum into a larsonist?"
"Just looking after retirement," Dagan answered,
"Us's retirement."
Dagan had indeed found a magic box in which the key fit. "Damme," Markham exclaimed after reading the first page of a bundle of papers that had been locked in the box. As he started reading the second page, he handed the first to Gabe who was just as astonished as Markham.
"Damme, sir, do you know what this means?"
"Aye," Markham replied. "I think we'd better get underway directly. After seeing these papers perhaps Lord Anthony will not ask if we found anything else of value."
"Damn," Gabe thought eyeing Dagan and then replied, "We didn't, Frances, we didn't." Long after putting the papers back in the box and locking it, the heading of the papers still burned in
Markham 's brain. "Plans for the invasion and occupation of Nova Scotia."
It was midday when the lookout cal ed down, "Sail off the larboard bow." Swan, Le Frelon and the merchant brigantine al reduced sail until the sighting had been identified. It was the gun ketch, Pigeon, commanded by Lieutenant Kerry. Pigeon had just rounded Cape Sable on her way to rendezvous with Lord Anthony's squadron at Halifax.
"You gave me a start," Kerry said to Markham.
"It's not often we see a French corvette in these waters.
I was sure you were a group of privateers." After hearing of Le Frelon's capture Kerry was surprised to hear Gabe was acting as commander. "So he's not dead. Half the squadron believes he's alive, while the other half thinks he's dead. Lord Anthony made it plain when he put Lieutenant Earl in command of SeaWolf-it was only temporary-until Gabe returned.
Some thought him daff but he was so positive I figured he knew something the rest of us didn't."
"Aye," Markham replied, "he knew Dagan and if Dagan say's it, you can count on it."
It was a joyous greeting that Gabe and Markham found waiting on them as they glided into the harbour of Halifax. Not only were Gabe and Markham
returning, but they were returning with a French corvette as a prize. The Pigeon had made al sail and alerted everyone to their soon arrival.
"The admiral is sure pacing," Lieutenant Herrod remarked to Captain Moffett.
"Aye, that he is," Moffett replied. "He said al along Gabe was alive, but I can't help but believe there was a nagging doubt. I'm glad for him. He sets some store in young Gabe. More like a son than a brother."
"There's Bart, captain, I can just imagine his words,
’know'd ’e were alive; 'I's jus know'd it." Herrod had Bart down pat. His mimicking the admiral's cox'n made Moffett chuckle.
"I-ha! ha!-don't think I'd let Bart hear you, Mr. Herrod-ha! ha!-not if you plan on staying around long enough to make captain.
As the Swan crept closer her battle wounds were obvious. A gaping void in her bulwark had not been replaced, nor were the scars in her mast that still had pieces of iron imbedded in it. The damaged rigging had been replaced and the "new" stood out in contrast to the older, more seasoned rigging. The decks had been washed down well after the battle, the water had poured thick and bloody as it ran down the scuppers. Now it would be hard for a person to full y comprehend the fierceness of the battle.
But some knew and that was why the harbour was lined, not only with Lord Anthony's ships, but also with every type of boat imaginable-al shouting, cheering, huzza…huzza. As Gabe stood on the corvette's
quarterdeck he caught a glimpse of his brother, standing tall and rigid then off came his hat in a bow…a salute.
The reception the returning ships were getting caused Gabe to think of Antigua and how the islanders cheered when time after time Lord Anthony would return with one or more prizes. A sudden chilling wind caused a sail to pop and made Gabe think the cheering was the only thing similar to Antigua as he pull ed his cloak closer. The damn weather certainly was not similar.