"I was just sending the midshipman for you, sir," Lieutenant Brooks volunteered, "although our good master says this will only last an hour or so."
"Well," Knight answered as the rain pelted away at his thin shirt, "if it cools things down it will be worth a little dampness."
As is the usual for his breed the master was right on the mark. "Fifty-five minutes by me watch," he exclaimed as suddenly the rain ceased.
"Land ho, off the starboard bow," the lookout called down.
There was an island just making itself visible as the clouds cleared from the sky. Sunlight beat across the deck on the damp planking and large drops from the recent squall dripped down from the rigging leaving dark circles on the deck that dried quickly.
"Deck there," the lookout called down, "sails just off yonder island."
Before Knight could digest this information Lieutenant Brooks was at his side, "Signal from Pigeon, sir, requests permission to investigate."
"Permission granted," Knight replied. Pigeon had been on station to starboard and therefore was between Neptune and the Keys. Meanwhile Markham had Swan on station to larboard of Neptune.
The sail turned out to be a small lugger and the captain had ignored the signal to heave to, so Pigeon was trying to overhaul the small ship. Watching as the lugger made its Barracuda
way through a channel heading into the Keys, Lieutenant Kerry of Pigeon was daydreaming. He loved his little ketch but he longed for something bigger, something like SeaWolf. Now that was a command to have. Damned if he wouldn't be able to put away a bit of prize money if he commanded a ship so fine.
Suddenly, Kerry was awakened from his daydreams.
Why hadn't he been paying attention… now he'd put his ship in danger. Things were happening… something awful. He found himself flying through the air in a torrent of flames and splinter that stung like a thousand needles all at once then as he hit the waters, just before everything went black he heard the explosion that ruined his dream.
Standing on deck, Neptune 's officers watched unbelieving at the ruthless barrage of cannon fire pouring into the tiny ship. The flashing orange tongues seem to leap out from the seemingly peaceful mangrove trees. The Barracuda had been lying in wait and the lugger had been the bait. Knight could see the waterspouts bursting all around the Pigeon as the cannon's flames spit forth from the hidden ship.
"Mr. Brooks?"
"Aye, aye captain."
"Beat to quarters and signal Swan, though damme I hope Markham is faster responding than I've been." Markham on board Swan had heard and seen the onslaught of cannon fire that tore into the helpless ketch.
Using his glass as Swan closed with the Keys, Markham could see men running frantically about with gesturing arms.
Some were hacking away at the downed mast and spar, while others were gallantly firing Pigeon's popguns at the ghost ship that was so entwined with the trees and vegetation she was not even clearly visible. Meanwhile, Neptune was closely approaching the scene. Knight had
ordered the bow chasers to open fire as soon as they were in range. The boom of the bow chaser was quickly answered by a cry from the lookout.
"Last shot was over Pigeon but the enemy ship is showing 'er heels."
The forward guns continued to fire and the lookout called down again, "A 'it by gawd. The last ball sent splinters a flying as we pounded one up 'er arse." The master was now in front of Knight, "We're to close, captain. We need to anchor now and send in boats. I can see weeds off to larboard."
"Very well," Knight replied. "Heave to. There has to be a channel, possibly one that continues to the other side, where the cutthroat is escaping."
"However, we'll heave to and render what help we can," Knight said with defeat in his voice.
Before they could get the boats in the water Swan was alongside, Markham joined Knight in his gig as they rowed toward the helpless ship. As they got close the cries of pain and anguish could be heard.
Mr. Davy who was standing in the bow of a longboat that was alongside Knight's gig spoke out, "She's on a sandbar. That's why she hasn't sunk."
Davy was right. Pigeon had come to rest on a sandbar having been leered into position where the Barracuda had been silently waiting. Markham 's knuckles turned white as he grasped the side of the gig. Knight sat across from Markham trying to shut out the human agony that confronted him. His recent bout with the privateer's attack at Saint Augustine all too fresh in his memory not to feel the hell the crew on Pigeon must be feeling.
Men's bodies were so badly mutilated it was hard to realize they had once been human. A sailor grabbed a rope that was heaved by the bowman. As he stood the sight of his breeches spattered with blood and gore made the bowman retch."Don't worry," cried the sailor. "I t ain't mine!" The chorus of cries and groans on board as men stumbled about was heart wrenching. Men were lying with open mouths and open dead eyes. A man seemed to shudder then slumped forward. Mr. Davy pulled at the man who fell back half his face gone, the other half covered in dark congealed blood.
The Pigeon was listing badly. Great sections of the once beautiful ketch floated on the tide. Men were working to cut the mainmast adrift as it thumped against the battered hull. Of the fifty-five men who crewed Pigeon only a handful were not wounded and able to perform their full duties while another half dozen were walking wounded. When Neptune 's surgeon had made his way on Pigeon's deck he had declared, "Not much work for me, a chaplain maybe but not me."
Once the survivors were removed Knight had charges laid about. "I'll not see her scavenged," he said to Markham. There was precious little to scavenge thought Markham but he agreed. The explosion that sent swells under the boats being rowed back to their ships was ignored by the men. Not one turned to see the little ship slip away below the surface as she and her dead came to their final resting place.
Admiral Anthony and Flag Captain Buck sat quietly at the admiral's table. Bart and Silas were silent in the pantry and Flag Lieutenant Hazard stood to the back of Admiral Anthony, moisture filling his eyes as Knight made his solemn report. Markham stood by quietly reliving the moment as Knight explained in detail the loss of Lieutenant Kerry and HMS Pigeon. As usual the word had spread throughout the squadron and created a somber mood. Everyone had known and liked the captain of the lost ship and its crew.
"I'm sorry, my lord," Knight said as he finished his report. "I shouldn't have allowed Kerry to venture in as he did."
"Sorry… why damme sir it's I who should be sorry. I should have brought this rogue to play before now.
Captain Buck."
"Aye, my lord."
"General signal to the squadron, prepare for sea."
"The entire squadron, my lord?" Buck asked.
"Yes, put every ship a sail. We're going fishing… for Barracuda."
Anthony reported to Tonyn and made him aware of his plan.
"But what of Saint Augustine, what are we to do?"
"You have both the Rose and the captured xebec," Anthony answered diplomatically. "But in truth, sir, I believe the knowledge of us being here has been spread so that no attempt on the city is likely. We will probably be back before the word can be spread that we're gone. I also believe once we deal with the Barracuda the menace will be so reduced there'll be no need for an entire squadron."
"We'll see," Tonyn answered skeptically, but he did agree the Barracuda had to be dealt with and soon.
For six long days Anthony's squadron sailed down the coast of Florida and into the Keys. The cutter, Audacity,
was used to take soundings and mark channels in and around the Keys where a ship could hide. Lieutenant Hazard was on board acting as a pilot to help mark the channels on the admiralty chart. It felt good being back at sea doing something useful… something he'd spent his life before the Navy doing.
At the larger Keys men went ashore in boats. At Key Largo a large fishing village was found where the Barracuda