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“It’ll be light soon, Cap’n. Here’s yer breakfast and Mr. Buck would like to see ye soon as convenient, sir.”
    “Very well. Have the sentry pass the word for Mr. Buck to lay to my cabin, and we’ll have a cup of coffee together.”
    “Aye, sir,” Silas replied then departed.
    Anthony could tell something was amiss as soon as Buck entered the cabin. “Sit you down, sir. You look ready to explode.”
    ‘Aye, Cap’n. It’s the fourth lieutenant, Mr. Witzenfeld, sir. He’s already placed a petty officer on report for disrespect.”
    “How so?” Anthony questioned.
    “Mr. Witz, that’s what they call Witzenfeld, sir, well, we had just called all hands to shorten sail, and Mr. Witz tells a new hand, a landsman, to lend a hand and clew up the sails. Well, sir, the poor sod was dumbfounded and just stood there gawkish like. That set Mr. Witz off. He started cussing and screaming at the man telling him to obey his orders or feel the cat. Avery, one of the bosun’s mates, attempted to explain what was wrong but then Witz jumped on him, berating him as the son of a worthless whore. He said, “When I give an order, it’s to be carried out by the person I gave it to.” By that time, most of the crew had gathered. Avery had had enough of Witz’s name calling and said to Witz, ‘E’s a bloody landsman, sir, can’t ye tell? ‘E ain’t got no fooking idea what crew up means. Mr. Witz then promised Avery a dozen lashes for his disrespect and insolence.”
    Anthony shook his head upon hearing Buck’s tale. “A bad beginning.”
    “Aye, cap’n, a bad one alright.”
    Suddenly, a shrill scream broke the momentary silence. It was more like that of a child than a man. In a bound, Anthony and Buck were through the cabin door and up on deck. Dagan had a hold of Mr. Davy, the young midshipman the squire had made arrangements for. The lad was twisting, thrashing, and trying his best to get to the Fourth Lieutenant, Mr. Witzenfeld. However, it was Gabe who stood in front of the young boy, face to face with Witzenfeld. Dagan was speaking in a soothing fashion to calm and quiet the angry lad. Mr. Witzenfeld was touching a bloody lip. As he withdrew his hand from his mouth it went to the hilt of his sword, and he took a threatening step forward toward the young midshipman. Gabe was there, but it was Dagan who, releasing Mr. Davy, took a sudden step forward. His cold black eyes seemed to penetrate, and Witz’s body gave a sudden involuntary shudder. Mr. Witz stopped dead in his tracks, his skin turning pale as moisture broke out across his freckled forehead.
    “Mr. Witzenfeld! To your cabin, sir,” Anthony ordered. He then turned to Gabe. “Mr. Anthony, see that Mr. Davy gets cleaned up and brought to my cabin forthwith.”
    “Aye, aye, sir,” Gabe answered.
    “Bart!”
    “Here, Cap’n.”
    “Follow me.”
    “Aye, Cap’n.”
    “Mr. Buck, you have the ship.”
    “Aye, aye, sir.”
    In the privacy of his quarters, Anthony turned to Bart. “Go talk with Dagan and maybe the master, Mr. Peckham. I saw him on deck. Talk with them in private, but get me their side of what just happened on deck.”
    Ban nodded. As he was leaving, Anthony said, “Damme but this is a bad beginning,” Bart paused just inside the cabin door. He looked at Anthony and said, “Aye, cap’n, but sometimes it’s best to get rid of a bad apple afore it spoils the whole barrel.”
    “Bad apple!” Anthony exclaimed. “Damn your eyes, you’re talking about a King’s officer.”
    Bart replied, “Bad apples come in all forms, sir!” Then he was out the door. “Damn him,’’ Anthony thought. In ten years, the cox’n always seemed to get the last word.
    At that time, the marine sentry announced, “Mr. Anthony, zur .’’
    When Gabe entered, Anthony asked, “Where’s Mr. Davy?”
    “With the surgeon, sir.”
    “Was he hurt?”
    “Not outwardly, sir”
    Anthony shook his head. “By outwardly you mean he’s hurting inside, as