University of Virginia Library

10. CHAPTER X.
ANOTHER ADVENTURER APPEARS UPON THE SCENE.

ABOUT half-past ten o'clock, as they were thus conversing,
Israel's acquaintance, the pretty chambermaid,
rapped at the door, saying, with a titter, that a very rude
gentleman in the passage of the court, desired to see
Doctor Franklin.

“A very rude gentleman?” repeated the wise man in
French, narrowly looking at the girl; “that means, a very
fine gentleman who has just paid you some energetic
compliment. But let him come up, my girl,” he added
patriarchially.

In a few moments, a swift coquettish step was heard,
followed, as if in chase, by a sharp and manly one. The
door opened. Israel was sitting so that, accidentally,
his eye pierced the crevice made by the opening of the
door, which, like a theatrical screen, stood for a moment
between Doctor Franklin and the just entering visitor.
And behind that screen, through the crack, Israel caught
one momentary glimpse of a little bit of by-play between

the pretty chambermaid and the stranger. The vivacious
nymph appeared to have affectedly run from him on the
stairs—doubtless in freakish return for some liberal
advances—but had suffered herself to be overtaken at
last ere too late; and on the instant Israel caught sight
of her, was with an insincere air of rosy resentment, receiving
a roguish pinch on the arm, and a still more
roguish salute on the cheek.

The next instant both disappeared from the range of
the crevice; the girl departing whence she had come;
the stranger—transiently invisible as he advanced behind
the door—entering the room. When Israel now perceived
him again, he seemed, while momentarily hidden,
to have undergone a complete transformation.

He was a rather small, elastic, swarthy man, with an
aspect as of a disinherited Indian Chief in European
clothes. An unvanquishable enthusiasm, intensified to
perfect sobriety, couched in his savage, self-possessed
eye. He was elegantly and somewhat extravagantly
dressed as a civilian; he carried himself with a rustic,
barbaric jauntiness, strangely dashed with a superinduced
touch of the Parisian salon. His tawny cheek, like a
date, spoke of the tropic. A wonderful atmosphere of
proud friendlessness and scornful isolation invested him.
Yet there was a bit of the poet as well as the outlaw
in him, too. A cool solemnity of intrepidity sat on his
lip. He looked like one who of purpose sought out
harm's way. He looked like one who never had been,
and never would be, a subordinate.

Israel thought to himself that seldom before had he

seen such a being. Though dressed à-la-mode, he did
not seem to be altogether civilized.

So absorbed was our adventurer by the person of the
stranger, that a few moments passed ere he began to be
aware of the circumstance, that Dr. Franklin and this
new visitor having saluted as old acquaintances, were
now sitting in earnest conversation together.

“Do as you please; but I will not bide a suitor much
longer,” said the stranger in bitterness. “Congress gave
me to understand that, upon my arrival here, I should
be given immediate command of the Indien; and now,
for no earthly reason that I can see, you Commissioners
have presented her, fresh from the stocks at Amsterdam,
to the King of France, and not to me. What does the
King of France with such a frigate? And what can I
not do with her? Give me back the “Indien,” and in
less than one month, you shall hear glorious or fatal
news of Paul Jones.”

“Come, come, Captain,” said Doctor Franklin, soothingly,
“tell me now, what would you do with her, if you
had her?”

“I would teach the British that Paul Jones, though
born in Britain, is no subject to the British King, but an
untrammelled citizen and sailor of the universe; and I
would teach them, too, that if they ruthlessly ravage the
American coasts, their own coasts are vulnerable as New
Holland's. Give me the Indien, and I will rain down on
wicked England like fire on Sodom.”

These words of bravado were not spoken in the tone of
a bravo, but a prophet. Erect upon his chair, like an

Iroquois, the speaker's look was like that of an unflickering
torch.

His air seemed slightly to disturb the old sage's philosophic
repose, who, while not seeking to disguise his admiration
of the unmistakable spirit of the man, seemed but
illy to relish his apparent measureless boasting.

As if both to change the subject a little, as well as put
his visitor in better mood—though indeed it might have
been but covertly to play with his enthusiasm—the man
of wisdom now drew his chair confidentially nearer to
the stranger's, and putting one hand in a very friendly,
conciliatory way upon his visitor's knee, and rubbing it
gently to and fro there, much as a lion-tamer might
soothingly manipulate the aggravated king of beasts,
said in a winning manner:—“Never mind at present,
Captain, about the `Indien' affair. Let that sleep a
moment. See now, the Jersey privateers do us a great
deal of mischief by intercepting our supplies. It has
been mentioned to me, that if you had a small vessel—
say, even your present ship, the `Amphitrite,'—then, by
your singular bravery, you might render great service,
by following those privateers where larger ships durst
not venture their bottoms; or, if but supported by some
frigates from Brest at a proper distance, might draw
them out, so that the larger vessels could capture them.”

“Decoy-duck to French frigates!—Very dignified office,
truly!” hissed Paul in a fiery rage. “Doctor Franklin,
whatever Paul Jones does for the cause of America, it
must be done through unlimited orders: a separate, supreme
command; no leader and no counsellor but himself.

Have I not already by my services on the American
coast shown that I am well worthy all this? Why then
do you seek to degrade me below my previous level?
I will mount, not sink. I live but for honor and glory.
Give me, then, something honorable and glorious to do, and
something famous to do it with. Give me the Indien.”

The man of wisdom slowly shook his head. “Everything
is lost through this shillyshallying timidity, called
prudence,” cried Paul Jones, starting to his feet; “to be
effectual, war should be carried on like a monsoon, one
changeless determination of every particle towards the
one unalterable aim. But in vacillating councils, statesmen
idle about like the cats'-paws in calms. My God,
why was I not born a Czar!”

“A Nor'wester, rather. Come, come, Captain,” added
the sage, “sit down, we have a third person present, you
see,” pointing towards Israel, who sat rapt at the volcanic
spirit of the stranger.

Paul slightly started, and turned inquiringly upon Israel,
who, equally owing to Paul's own earnestness of discourse
and Israel's motionless bearing, had thus far remained undiscovered.

“Never fear, Captain,” said the sage, “this man is true
blue, a secret courier, and an American born. He is an
escaped prisoner of war.”

“Ah, captured in a ship?” asked Paul eagerly: “what
ship? None of mine! Paul Jones never was captured.”

“No, sir, in the brigantine Washington, out of Boston,”
replied Israel; “we were cruising to cut off supplies to
the English.”

“Did your shipmates talk much of me?” demanded
Paul, with a look as of a parading Sioux demanding
homage to his gewgaws; “what did they say of Paul
Jones?”

“I never heard the name before this evening,” said
Israel.

“What? Ah—brigantine Washington—let me see; that
was before I had outwitted the Soleby frigate, fought the
Milford, and captured the Mellish and the rest off Louisbergh.
You were long before the news, my lad,” he
added, with a sort of compassionate air.

“Our friend here gave you a rather blunt answer,”
said the wise man, sagely mischievous, and addressing
Paul.

“Yes. And I like him for it. My man, will you go
a cruise with Paul Jones? You fellows so blunt with
the tongue, are apt to be sharp with the steel. Come,
my lad, return with me to Brest. I go in a few days.”

Fired by the contagious spirit of Paul, Israel, forgetting
all about his previous desire to reach home, sparkled
with response to the summons. But Doctor Franklin interrupted
him.

“Our friend here,” said he to the Captain, “is at present
engaged for very different duty.”

Much other conversation followed, during which Paul
Jones again and again expressed his impatience at being
unemployed, and his resolution to accept of no employ
unless it gave him supreme authority; while in answer
to all this Dr. Franklin, not uninfluenced by the uncompromising
spirit of his guest, and well knowing that

however unpleasant a trait in conversation, or in the
transaction of civil affairs, yet in war this very quality
was invaluable, as projectiles and combustibles, finally
assured Paul, after many complimentary remarks, that
he would immediately exert himself to the utmost to
procure for him some enterprise which should come up
to his merits.

“Thank you for your frankness,” said Paul; “frank
myself, I love to deal with a frank man. You, Doctor
Franklin, are true and deep, and so you are frank.”

The sage sedately smiled, a queer incredulity just lurking
in the corner of his mouth.

“But how about our little scheme for new modelling
ships-of-war?” said the Doctor, shifting the subject; “it
will be a great thing for our infant navy, if we succeed.
Since our last conversation on that subject, Captain, at
odds and ends of time, I have thought over the matter,
and have begun a little skeleton of the thing here, which
I will show you. Whenever one has a new idea of anything
mechanical, it is best to clothe it with a body as
soon as possible. For you can't improve so well on
ideas as you can on bodies.”

With that, going to a little drawer, he produced a small
basket, filled with a curious looking unfinished frame-work
of wood, and several bits of wood unattached. It looked
like a nursery basket containing broken odds and ends of
playthings.

“Now look here, Captain, though the thing is but begun
at present, yet there is enough to show that one idea at
least of yours is not feasible.”

Paul was all attention, as if having unbounded confidence
in whatever the sage might suggest, while Israel
looked on quite as interested as either, his heart swelling
with the thought of being privy to the consultations of
two such men; consultations, too, having ultimate reference
to such momentous affairs as the freeing of nations.

“If,” continued the Doctor, taking up some of the
loose bits and piling them along on one side of the top
of the frame, “if the better to shelter your crew in
an engagement, you construct your rail in the manner
proposed—as thus—then, by the excessive weight of the
timber, you will too much interfere with the ship's centre
of gravity. You will have that too high.”

“Ballast in the hold in proportion,” said Paul.

“Then you will sink the whole hull too low. But here,
to have less smoke in time of battle, especially on the
lower decks, you proposed a new sort of hatchway. But
that won't do. See here now, I have invented certain
ventilating pipes, they are to traverse the vessel thus”—
laying some toilette pins along—“the current of air to
enter here and be discharged there. What do you think
of that? But now about the main things—fast sailing
driving little to leeward, and drawing little water. Look
now at this keel. I whittled it only night before last,
just before going to bed. Do you see now how”—

At this crisis, a knock was heard at the door, and the
chambermaid reappeared, announcing that two gentlemen
were that moment crossing the court below to see Doctor
Franklin.

“The Duke de Chartres, and Count D'Estang,” said

the Doctor; “they appointed for last night, but did not
come. Captain, this has something indirectly to do with
your affair. Through the Duke, Count D'Estang has
spoken to the King about the secret expedition, the design
of which you first threw out. Call early to-morrow,
and I will inform you of the result.”

With his tawny hand Paul pulled out his watch, a
small, richly-jewelled lady's watch.

“It is so late, I will stay here to-night,” he said; “is
there a convenient room?”

“Quick,” said the Doctor, “it might be ill-advised of
you to be seen with me just now. Our friend here will
let you share his chamber. Quick, Israel, and show the
Captain thither.”

As the door closed upon them in Israel's apartment,
Doctor Franklin's door closed upon the Duke and the
Count. Leaving the latter to their discussion of profound
plans for the timely befriending of the American cause,
and the crippling of the power of England on the seas,
let us pass the night with Paul Jones and Israel in the
neighboring room.