He was tempted to go below to his cabin but knew there'd be little relief from the cold other than Warrior's wooden walls. In this weather not even the galley fires were lit. As bad as it was on Warrior, Anthony knew it had to be worse on the ketch Pigeon, and cutter, Audacity. Buck would be better off on Merlin which was a thirty-two gun frigate. Damme he hated the cold, Lord Anthony thought to himself. How he'd love to be back in the West Indies.

Thinking of the West Indies, Anthony's thoughts naturally drifted to Gabe. He could see him now, putting SeaWolf through her paces. He missed Gabe but knew he had to give him the opportunity to advance. He'd never be able to do that tied to an admiral's coat-tail.

"Colder'n well digger's arse, ain't it sir?"

"Ah, Bart. I'm surprised you've torn yourself away from Silas's coffee. Did it get cold or did it run out?"

"Well, sir, ’twas a little of both, it be. Silas say's if you're to enjoy it afore the heats all gone to come on down. Otherwise, he'll be taking an ice pick to it."

"Very well, I'll be right down. Bart!"

"Aye, sir."

"My compliments to the captain. Will he take a cup with me if convenient?"

"Aye, sir, I'll see to it," Bart replied as he snuggled his coat tighter about his ears and went to deliver Lord Anthony's message.

"Good morning, Lord Anthony."

"Dutch! Have a seat. Silas has wrapped a hot brick to the coffee pot and is unwrapping it now.

He says it's only lukewarm but maybe it'll be stimulating."

"Aye, my Lord, Silas's coffee usually is," Dutch Moffett, Anthony's flag captain, replied, thinking of his first cup of Silas's coffee which had been liberally laced with brandy.

"Looks like the blow will last all the way to Halifax, my Lord. The master says it'll be another two or three days before this lets up."

"Huh," Anthony replied. "I don't know what's worse. Being roasted in New York 's harbour or freezing in the Atlantic."