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  “You actually hanged one?” Lord Anthony asked, not sure he was believing his ears.

  “Aye sir,” Lavery replied. “We strung up one of the men who’d been cut down when we boarded. It was Dunmore’s mate what took on so.”

  “Well damme,” Sir Victor replied. “What did you learn?”

  “They were hoping to board an unsuspecting supply ship from a convoy that’s due in, sir. That was the main objective. The second was to steal the signal and recognition codes.”

  “Good work. I will mention each of you in my report,” Lord Anthony said. “I know your worth but it won’t hurt to get your name in the Gazette.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Lieutenant Lavery and Ally replied.

  “Once the fog is clear,” Anthony said, speaking to Gabe, “we’ll take the pinnace in and report to the governor. I’m sure he’ll be surprised.” Then, as an afterthought, Anthony spoke again, “I would not think it amiss if you were to give Mr. Alejandro leave, Captain Anthony. From what I know of our orders, we are to return here once the exchange is over. Several of the families will reside here and the soldiers exchanged will augment those at the fort.”

  “Thank you, sir. I had considered that very thing but without knowing the very extent of our orders I didn’t want to make the offer until I was sure.”

  That was for Sir Victor’s benefit, Anthony thought. I’ve told Gabe everything but Sir Victor doesn’t know that and this last statement will keep him guessing.

  * * *

  Governor Tonyn must have been more than a little surprised when his secretary reported the pilot boat was returning from the anchorage with an admiral’s flag flying from the mast. However surprised, by the time the pinnace dropped anchor, the governor had a carriage waiting at the waterfront.

  “A very capable man,” Sir Victor offered and asked what Lord Anthony knew of Saint Augustine’s governor.

  “He’s well informed as you can tell by the carriage awaiting us,” Lord Anthony replied, then went on to speak of his time at Saint Augustine and his relationship with the governor.

  Andrew Chiswick sat in the seat across from Sir Victor and Lord Anthony. He relaxed and enjoyed the heat of the Florida sun. Dry land, he thought. How good it feels to be on dry land. He’d not felt the land beneath his feet for more than a few hours since the clumsy midshipman knocked him arse over teakettle into New York harbour. When he took the job as Sir Victor’s man at the Foreign Office he never thought he’d spend so much time aboard a ship at sea. Well, they’d be here a week or so. He’d enjoy it. Who knows? he thought. A job for a man of his talents might be open here. He’d have to keep an ear open.

  Governor Tonyn had cool refreshments waiting by the time the carriage arrived at Government House. Lord Anthony was quick to note how fast Sir Victor downed his first glass.

  “Careful sir,” Anthony warned. “Our host is partial to the fruity wine, sangria. But don’t let the sweetness or the sliced fruit floating atop the pitcher fool you. A quick glass or two on a hot day like today will put you in your cups before you know it.”

  Chiswick was already feeling the effects of the heady liquid.

  “Ah yes,” Tonyn said to Lord Anthony’s comments. “One of the pleasant surprises I picked up from the Spanish. A cool glass is meant to be savoured on such days.”

  “What’s in it?” Sir Victor asked.

  “A sweet red wine topped with a mixture of spice and lemon juice, or a mixture of fruits and juices. I prefer the orange sliced on top. The mixture is then poured over a pitcher of ice to chill and let stand until even the ice is rich in flavor.”

  “Humm,” Sir Victor uttered as he put the glass to his lips. After a swallow he commented, “I’d soon be out of ice.”

  “Yes, of all the ingredients ice is the most difficult to keep. I have a merchantman who supplies me twice a year from Nova Scotia but it never lasts. So enjoy, gentlemen, a toast to ice.”

  “Hear, hear,” they all toasted.

  After the toast Lord Anthony explained how the pilot boat had been taken by a band of rebels out of Georgia but thanks to the keen ear of one of his midshipmen the boat had been retaken… unfortunately not before murder and mayhem had taken place.

  Nodding, Tonyn said, “We still have the odd raid but no more attacks from the sea or upon shipping. Thank God you put a stop to that, Lord Anthony. This is the first attempt at such since you left. Hopefully the rogues will be surprised enough to figure the chance of warships being at anchorage is too great to chance such attacks. I can’t tell you how surprised I was to see the pilot boat dropping anchor with a vice admiral’s flag flying.” Having said that, Tonyn rose and raised his glass, “A toast gentlemen…to Lord Anthony’s promotion.”

  After a servant had refilled the glasses, Lord Anthony explained why they were here and inquired as to whether Tonyn had been notified.

  “I have been,” Tonyn admitted but was too skeptical to believe it would really happen; the magnitude of such an undertaking was unbelievable.

  There’s that word again, Anthony thought. Magnitude. Lord Anthony stood and looked out toward Anastasia Island. In his mind he could still see the broken schooner, HMS Swan that had been thrown upon the beach like something insignificant during a sudden squall. Looking back toward the talking men, he thought just how insignificant all this was. Feeling a touch melancholy, he thought of his wife and daughter and how he missed them…how much he loved them. Now that is significant!

  * * *

  The next week was spent meeting with prisoners to be exchanged, explaining what was to take place and where, as well as finding out how many family members was involved. Those prisoners who had given their parole to the British had led a relatively normal existence, which included allowing entire families to join them if they could afford it. This group was treated much the same as other wealthy Floridians and were invited to the social events and balls. Those who had refused had been kept under lock and key, most of them on the sloop Otter, which had been turned into a prison ship while others were held on Anastasia Island. A few were even kept at the fort. By the time the final number had been established, Lord Anthony realized he didn’t have the ships to transport all the people.

  Sir Victor reluctantly admitted that no thought had been given to the transport of slaves, servants, or extended family. It was finally decided a pass would be a given and household goods, slaves, and servants would travel overland in wagons. The prisoners would be allowed to take two servants per family of four or more but only one in smaller families.

  The night before the families were to be taken aboard ship, Gabe and Dagan stopped at the Mermaid for a wet. Alejandro had been given permission to sleep ashore and had spent most of his evenings at the tavern since they had arrived in Saint Augustine. Tonight Ally’s mother, who the men had started calling Mama Chavez, had cooked a special meal for them. During the meal, small talk about the tavern took place. The fight between Midshipman Lancaster and the soldier was discussed and how at the subsequent trail the courtroom had erupted in near hysteria and laughter at Lum’s testimony.

  Talk then turned to the prisoner exchange. At this point Mama Chavez asked the question Gabe had been considering. “Norfolk, Virginia, is that not where Colonel Manning’s family is from?”

  “Aye,” Dagan replied.

  “Good,” Mama Chavez continued. “I hope it’s possible you will be able to visit if the war allows. I know Senora Betsy would be most glad to see you.”

  “And I her,” Dagan answered.

  Seeing Dagan was uncomfortable with the line of discussion, Gabe spoke out. “Well, Domingo, have you enjoyed Alejandro’s presence this past week?”

  “Si, it has been good. We will be sad to see him leave tomorrow, his madre and I.”

  “Well,” Gabe started with a smile, “do you think you could find something to keep him busy until we return? I’d not like to think he’d just lie around and get fat and lazy.”

  “Oh, si, we will of course have
plenty for him to do.”

  “Good! It’s settled then. Mr. Ally!”

  “Si…ah yes sir,” the midshipman replied, still in a state of shock over what he had been hearing.

  “You are hereby granted leave until we return. I expect that will be between two to four weeks. I will trust Domingo will limit your sea tales of daring to all the young ladies until my return.”

  “I will, Captain,” Domingo replied. “And gracias.”

  “Well Dagan, we’d best head back to the ship.”

  “Aye,” Dagan replied. Rising, he cuffed Ally behind the head good-naturedly.

  As the two headed out the tavern, Ally and his parents watched, not believing they’d have several weeks together.

  “Vaya con dios,” Domingo whispered. “Vaya con dios.”

  Chapter Six

  The first day out of Saint Augustine brought with it a stiff breeze and a choppy sea. To the northwest, clouds were building up causing the sea to roll. The ship would rise up with one large roller then crash down, sending a constant spray over the bow that ran down each side of the deck creating a continuous flow of water draining from the scuppers. More than one of the passengers found out firsthand the meaning of being seasick. As bad as it was on Peregrine, Gabe couldn’t help but wonder about the passengers aboard Pegasus. Colonel Meacham, the senior prisoner of war, had walked up without Gabe hearing him due to the sound of the wind blowing through the riggings. Sensing someone close at hand, Gabe turned to find himself face to face with the colonel.

  “My apologies, Captain. I didn’t mean to intrude upon your space,” Meacham volunteered.

  “No apology needed,” Gabe replied. He had dined with the colonel and his family on a few occasions since their pulling into Saint Augustine and had quickly come to like the gentleman.

  Gabe noticed the colonel had his feet spread apart and, with the aid of a cane, managed to steady himself as the sea tossed the ship about. Grasping a shroud to keep his balance, the colonel used his cane to point at Pegasus.

  “Not unlike a thoroughbred colt after the first frost,” the colonel said.

  Gabe smiled. He would never have made the analogy, but it was easy to see once mentioned.

  The colonel had been a breeder from Williamsburg before the war and had made the acquaintance of Dagan’s Uncle Andre. It had been good for Dagan to spend time and talk with someone who knew his family. Watching the two share a bowl of tobacco after dinner last night, Gabe recalled the words that had been spoken to him a year or so back.

  “Your problem, Gabe, is you don’t hate those you’re fighting against and you don’t necessarily love the ones we’re fighting for.” Troubled, he recently had discussed this with Sir Victor over drinks one night while in Saint Augustine. Gabe had tried to explain that one did his duty as ordered, with the faith that while he might not agree it was what was best for King and country.

  Hearing this, Sir Victor gave such a vicious snort it echoed throughout the Mermaid. The tavern had been closed for hours. Even Domingo had retired, leaving the two to fend for themselves.

  “I might believe as you do, Gabe, if I felt it was for King and country, but it’s not. It’s the bloody politicians leading our country with very little regard for the monarch.”

  “Well, hopefully they are mostly true and just in their governing our country,” Gabe replied. “One would hope they put the country first in their hearts and mind.”

  Shaking his head, Sir Victor drained the last of the liquid in his cup then scraped the legs of the chair backwards as he stood. Walking behind the bar, Sir Victor reached for another bottle of wine, paying no attention to the label or selection. Removing the cork with his teeth and banging the open bottle on the table before seating himself. Sir Victor reminded Gabe more of some rogue of a seadog than of an English nobleman.

  “Humph,” Sir Victor snorted again. “You are an excellent captain and seaman, Gabe, but you are out of your element when it comes to politicians. I hardly know of any who’s not more concerned with filling his purse than the needs of England.”

  Taking a deep swallow, Sir Victor gave a sigh then continued, “Gabe, my friend, you are more likely to find a virgin in a whorehouse than an honest politician in Parliament.”

  Unable to resist the thought that came to his head, Gabe asked, “And what about you, sir?”

  The Foreign Office agent paused, his glass in midair and peered at Gabe over the rim, “Aye, I bear considerable watching myself.”

  Then after a moment of silence Gabe burst out in laughter, “An honest Englishman,” he quipped.

  This caused Sir Victor to smile and reply, “But don’t tell a soul.”

  * * *

  Gunnells, the sailing master, was looking at the distant clouds, which seemed to be moving fast.

  “Think we’re in for a blow?” Gabe asked.

  “Nay, I’d say calm before a storm,” the master replied.

  Gabe opened his mouth to question the man’s comments but closed it without a word. In all the time the two had sailed together, he’d never been wrong.

  “Deck there,” the masthead lookout called down, “signal from Dasher.”

  Instantly Hawks, the senior midshipman, had a glass in his hand and bounded to the shrouds and up the ratlines until he could get a good view of Dasher’s signals. “Strange sail to windward,” he read out.

  “Who could that be?” Gabe asked as he turned and saw his brother mounting the quarterdeck.

  One usually requested permission to come on the quarterdeck but when it was not only the captain’s brother but a vice admiral as well, people just moved to make way.

  “Any recognition signal?” Lord Anthony asked.

  “No sir, none reported. Should I signal Dasher to investigate?”

  Lord Anthony gazed up at the white flag of truce flying over the British flag. “Ours is a mission of peace,” Lord Anthony replied. “We will keep a watchful eye but no more at the moment.”

  Realizing Bart wasn’t accompanying his brother as usual, Gabe asked, “Where’s Bart? I haven’t seen much of him in the last day or so.”

  A frown creased Lord Anthony’s brow. “Bart has been under the weather with miseries of the gut. Your man, Livesey, states he’s more of a surgeon than a physician but he thinks Bart has picked up some ill humour or contagion. Hopefully the fresh sea air and a bland diet should see his symptoms resolve. Thus far, Bart has not run any fever.”

  Gabe could see the look of worry that enveloped his brother’s face. He and Bart had been together for a very long time. They had enjoyed a relationship that few could only dream about. They had survived fierce sea battles with cannon balls flying about, the joys of Gil’s marriage to Lady Deborah and the birth of Macayla. Bart had been there when Lord Anthony had been a junior lieutenant and he’d been present when Anthony became vice admiral. Gabe could not recall a single moment when Bart had not been at his brother’s side.

  As Lord Anthony took his leave, Dagan walked up. “I like Mr. Livesey but I wish Caleb was here.”

  “Aye,” Gabe responded. “Hopefully in two or three days we will be in Norfolk and you can find Caleb and have him take a look at Bart.”

  “We’ll go see Caleb when we reach Norfolk,” Dagan replied. “But it won’t be in a couple of days. A week, maybe.”

  Seeing Gabe’s questioning look, Dagan continued. “Did you forget the master said we’ll likely find ourselves in a calm…then I expect squalls.” Dagan added as he turned, speaking over his shoulder, “Think I’ll go see Bart, may make him feel better.”

  “Aye,” Gabe answered. “Tell him I’ll be down directly.” Looking up at the full press of sails, he found himself somewhat of a Doubting Thomas regarding the master’s prediction.

  “Captain.”

  Gabe took his gaze from aloft and found his First Lieutenant, Nathan Lavery, standing there. Damn, Gabe thought, where is my mind, my attention? People have been sneaking up on me all day.

  “Yes, Mr. Lave
ry.”

  “We may have a problem, sir.”

  “A problem, Mr. Lavery?”

  “Yes sir. It seems Cradock has gotten himself into an altercation.”

  Cradock…an altercation? He was an experienced bosun’s mate who had great potential to become a bosun one day. Lavery would normally handle such matters in a way that it would not go on a man’s record. Therefore Gabe knew this was not the usual petty infraction.