The mail packet, Heron, had just set sail. Anthony watched and couldn’t help but feel a degree of envy for her commander. He was only a lieutenant, but when he stepped aboard his ship he was given the same honor as a captain on a first rate. It was the freedom that Anthony envied. The Heron’s skipper was free of the humdrum duties associated with the fleet. Governors and senior naval officers, such as Commodore Gardner, who was starved for the latest news and gossip, generally welcomed him as an honored guest.
It was rumored that a senior admiral had held up sailing orders for an entire fleet until a mail packet commander could finish a particular juicy tale about a Member of Parliament coming home and almost catching his wife having sex with a young frigate captain. The lady in question heard her husband, who was much older, come puffing in the house and start up the stairs to their bedroom. The lady jumped out of bed and quickly put on a very revealing gown that left nothing to the imagination. She then stood in the doorway blocking her husband’s view of the room. During this time, the frigate captain hastily gathered up his clothes that thankfully were piled next to the bed. Scooping everything together he slid under the bed. As quietly as he could, he began to dress, paying particular care so he wouldn’t make any noise and thus be discovered. The lady made a valiant attempt to entice her husband to partake of her favors. After some coaxing, she was able to arouse the man to activity. The captain had to lie under the bed, which groaned under the weight of the lady and her husband. A great sag in the mattress gave the captain cause for concern, and he had to work his way to one side of the bed to keep from being pinned down between the bed and the floor. After a while the sounds from the two having sex and the constant groan and squeak of the bed lulled the captain’s senses and he dozed off. He was not sure how long he’d slept when a sudden loud sound awakened him. At first he wasn’t sure if it had been a loud snore or if one of the two above had expelled a resounding burst of flatulence. However, a certain foul odor started to permeate the air. The smell had been bad enough with the husband’s shoes not a foot away from the captain’s face. Now this new odor, combined with the shoes, was overwhelming. The captain, who had always suffered from a weak stomach, found himself gagging and couldn’t crawl from beneath the bed quick enough, spewing his gastric contents from the side of the bed, through the door and down the stairs. As the captain made his urgent departure, he woke up his lady friend who immediately set about cleaning up the mess. Her husband slept through the entire process. The lady thought she’d removed all signs of her lover having been present and therefore went back to bed.
“Did the old man ever become the wiser?” the admiral asked the lieutenant.
“Aye, sir. In the morning when he put on his shoes.”
Mail call had been passed, and men were gathering in little groups before the mail packet was out of sight. 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.