Chapter 17

THEY CALL AT THE EARL OF SELKIRK'S, AND AFTERWARDS FIGHT THE SHIP-OF-WAR

DRAKE.

The Ranger now stood over the Solway Frith for the Scottish shore, and

at noon on the same day, Paul, with twelve men, including two officers

and Israel, landed on St. Mary's Isle, one of the seats of the Earl of

Selkirk.

In three consecutive days this elemental warrior either entered the

harbors or landed on the shores of each of the Three Kingdoms.

The morning was fair and clear. St. Mary's Isle lay shimmering in the

sun. The light crust of snow had melted, revealing the tender grass and

sweet buds of spring mantling the sides of the cliffs.

At once, upon advancing with his party towards the house, Paul augured

ill for his project from the loneliness of the spot. No being was seen.

But c*****g his bonnet at a jaunty angle, he continued his way.

Stationing the men silently round about the house, fallowed by Israel,

he announced his presence at the porch.

A gray-headed domestic at length responded.

"Is the Earl within?"

"He is in Edinburgh, sir."

"Ah--sure?--Is your lady within?"

"Yes, sir--who shall I say it is?"

"A gentleman who calls to pay his respects. Here, take my card."

And he handed the man his name, as a private gentleman, superbly

engraved at Paris, on gilded paper.

Israel tarried in the hall while the old servant led Paul into a parlor.

Presently the lady appeared.

"Charming Madame, I wish you a very good morning."

"Who may it be, sir, that I have the happiness to see?" said the lady,

censoriously drawing herself up at the too frank gallantry of the

stranger.

"Madame, I sent you my card."

"Which leaves me equally ignorant, sir," said the lady, coldly, twirling

the gilded pasteboard.

"A courier dispatched to Whitehaven, charming Madame, might bring you

more particular tidings as to who has the honor of being your visitor."

Not comprehending what this meant, and deeply displeased, if not vaguely

alarmed, at the characteristic manner of Paul, the lady, not entirely

unembarrassed, replied, that if the gentleman came to view the isle, he

was at liberty so to do. She would retire and send him a guide.

"Countess of Selkirk," said Paul, advancing a step, "I call to see the

Earl. On business of urgent importance, I call."

"The Earl is in Edinburgh," uneasily responded the lady, again about to

retire.

"Do you give me your honor as a lady that it is as you say?"

The lady looked at him in dubious resentment.

"Pardon, Madame, I would not lightly impugn a lady's lightest word, but

I surmised that, possibly, you might suspect the object of my call, in

which case it would be the most excusable thing in the world for you to

seek to shelter from my knowledge the presence of the Earl on the isle."

"I do not dream what you mean by all this," said the lady with a decided

alarm, yet even in her panic courageously maintaining her dignity, as

she retired, rather than retreated, nearer the door.

"Madame," said Paul, hereupon waving his hand imploringly, and then

tenderly playing with his bonnet with the golden band, while an

expression poetically sad and sentimental stole over his tawny face; "it

cannot be too poignantly lamented that, in the profession of arms, the

officer of fine feelings and genuine sensibility should be sometimes

necessitated to public actions which his own private heart cannot

approve. This hard case is mine. The Earl, Madame, you say is absent. I

believe those words. Far be it from my soul, enchantress, to ascribe a

fault to syllables which have proceeded from so faultless a source."

This probably he said in reference to the lady's mouth, which was

beautiful in the extreme.

He bowed very lowly, while the lady eyed him with conflicting and

troubled emotions, but as yet all in darkness as to his ultimate

meaning. But her more immediate alarm had subsided, seeing now that the

sailor-like extravagance of Paul's homage was entirely unaccompanied

with any touch of intentional disrespect. Indeed, hyperbolical as were

his phrases, his gestures and whole carriage were most heedfully

deferential.

Paul continued: "The Earl, Madame, being absent, and he being the sole

object of my call, you cannot labor under the least apprehension, when I

now inform you, that I have the honor of being an officer in the

American Navy, who, having stopped at this isle to secure the person of

the Earl of Selkirk as a hostage for the American cause, am, by your

assurances, turned away from that intent; pleased, even in

disappointment, since that disappointment has served to prolong my

interview with the noble lady before me, as well as to leave her

domestic tranquillity unimpaired."

"Can you really speak true?" said the lady in undismayed wonderment.

"Madame, through your window you will catch a little peep of the

American colonial ship-of-war, Banger, which I have the honor to

command. With my best respects to your lord, and sincere regrets at not

finding him at home, permit me to salute your ladyship's hand and

withdraw."

But feigning not to notice this Parisian proposition, and artfully

entrenching her hand, without seeming to do so, the lady, in a

conciliatory tone, begged her visitor to partake of some refreshment ere

he departed, at the same time thanking him for his great civility. But

declining these hospitalities, Paul bowed thrice and quitted the room.

In the hall he encountered Israel, standing all agape before a Highland

target of steel, with a claymore and foil crossed on top.

"Looks like a pewter platter and knife and fork, Captain Paul."

"So they do, my lion; but come, curse it, the old c**k has flown; fine

hen, though, left in the nest; no use; we must away empty-handed."

"Why, ain't Mr. Selkirk in?" demanded Israel in roguish concern.

"Mr. Selkirk? Alexander Selkirk, you mean. No, lad, he's not on the Isle

of St. Mary's; he's away off, a hermit, on the Isle of Juan

Fernandez--the more's the pity; come."

In the porch they encountered the two officers. Paul briefly informed

them of the circumstances, saying, nothing remained but to depart

forthwith.

"With nothing at all for our pains?" murmured the two officers.

"What, pray, would you have?"

"Some pillage, to be sure--plate."

"Shame. I thought we were three gentlemen."

"So are the English officers in America; but they help themselves to

plate whenever they can get it from the private houses of the enemy."

"Come, now, don't be slanderous," said Paul; "these officers you speak

of are but one or two out of twenty, mere burglars and light-fingered

gentry, using the king's livery but as a disguise to their nefarious

trade. The rest are men of honor."

"Captain Paul Jones," responded the two, "we have not come on this

expedition in much expectation of regular pay; but we _did_ rely upon

honorable plunder."

"Honorable plunder! That's something new."

But the officers were not to be turned aside. They were the most

efficient in the ship. Seeing them resolute, Paul, for fear of incensing

them, was at last, as a matter of policy, obliged to comply. For

himself, however, he resolved to have nothing to do with the affair.

Charging the officers not to allow the men to enter the house on any

pretence, and that no search must be made, and nothing must be taken

away, except what the lady should offer them upon making known their

demand, he beckoned to Israel and retired indignantly towards the beach.

Upon second thoughts, he dispatched Israel back, to enter the house with

the officers, as joint receiver of the plate, he being, of course, the

most reliable of the seamen.

The lady was not a little disconcerted on receiving the officers. With

cool determination they made known their purpose. There was no escape.

The lady retired. The butler came; and soon, several silver salvers, and

other articles of value, were silently deposited in the parlor in the

presence of the officers and Israel.

"Mister Butler," said Israel, "let me go into the dairy and help to

carry the milk-pans."

But, scowling upon this rusticity, or roguishness--he knew not

which--the butler, in high dudgeon at Israel's republican familiarity,

as well as black as a thundercloud with the general insult offered to

an illustrious household by a party of armed thieves, as he viewed them,

declined any assistance. In a quarter of an hour the officers left the

house, carrying their booty.

At the porch they were met by a red-cheeked, spiteful-looking lass, who,

with her brave lady's compliments, added two child's rattles of silver

and coral to their load.

Now, one of the officers was a Frenchman, the other a Spaniard.

The Spaniard dashed his rattle indignantly to the ground. The Frenchman

took his very pleasantly, and kissed it, saying to the girl that he

would long preserve the coral, as a memento of her rosy cheeks.

When the party arrived on the beach, they found Captain Paul writing

with pencil on paper held up against the smooth tableted side of the

cliff. Next moment he seemed to be making his signature. With a

reproachful glance towards the two officers, he handed the slip to

Israel, bidding him hasten immediately with it to the house and place it

in Lady Selkirk's own hands.

The note was as follows:

"Madame:

"After so courteous a reception, I am disturbed to make you no better

return than you have just experienced from the actions of certain

persons under my command.--actions, lady, which my profession of arms

obliges me not only to brook, but, in a measure, to countenance. From

the bottom of my heart, my dear lady, I deplore this most melancholy

necessity of my delicate position. However unhandsome the desire of these

men, some complaisance seemed due them from me, for their general good

conduct and bravery on former occasions. I had but an instant to

consider. I trust, that in unavoidably gratifying them, I have inflicted

less injury on your ladyship's property than I have on my own bleeding

sensibilities. But my heart will not allow me to say more. Permit me to

assure you, dear lady, that when the plate is sold, I shall, at all

hazards, become the purchaser, and will be proud to restore it to

you, by such conveyance as you may hereafter see fit to appoint.

"From hence I go, Madame, to engage, to-morrow morning, his Majesty's

ship, Drake, of twenty guns, now lying at Carrickfergus. I should meet

the enemy with more than wonted resolution, could I flatter myself that,

through this unhandsome conduct on the part of my officers, I lie not

under the disesteem of the sweet lady of the Isle of St. Mary's. But

unconquerable as Mars should I be, could but dare to dream, that in some

green retreat of her charming domain, the Countess of Selkirk offers up a

charitable prayer for, my dear lady countess, one, who coming to take a

captive, himself has been captivated.

"Your ladyship's adoring enemy,

"JOHN PAUL JONES."

How the lady received this super-ardent note, history does not relate.

But history has not omitted to record, that after the return of the

Ranger to France, through the assiduous efforts of Paul in buying up

the booty, piece by piece, from the clutches of those among whom it had

been divided, and not without a pecuniary private loss to himself, equal

to the total value of the plunder, the plate was punctually restored,

even to the silver heads of two pepper-boxes; and, not only this, but

the Earl, hearing all the particulars, magnanimously wrote Paul a

letter, expressing thanks for his politeness. In the opinion of the

noble Earl, Paul was a man of honor. It were rash to differ in opinion

with such high-born authority.

Upon returning to the ship, she was instantly pointed over towards the

Irish coast. Next morning Carrickfergus was in sight. Paul would have

gone straight in; but Israel, reconnoitring with his glass, informed him

that a large ship, probably the Drake, was just coming out.

"What think you, Israel, do they know who we are? Let me have the

glass."

"They are dropping a boat now, sir," replied Israel, removing the glass

from his eye, and handing it to Paul.

"So they are--so they are. They don't know us. I'll decoy that boat

alongside. Quick--they are coming for us--take the helm now yourself, my

lion, and keep the ship's stern steadily presented towards the advancing

boat. Don't let them have the least peep at our broadside."

The boat came on, an officer in its bow all the time eyeing the Ranger

through a glass. Presently the boat was within hail.

"Ship ahoy! Who are you?"

"Oh, come alongside," answered Paul through his trumpet, in a rapid

off-hand tone, as though he were a gruff sort of friend, impatient at

being suspected for a foe.

In a few moments the officer of the boat stepped into the Ranger's

gangway. c*****g his bonnet gallantly, Paul advanced towards him, making

a very polite bow, saying: "Good morning, sir, good morning; delighted

to see you. That's a pretty sword you have; pray, let me look at it."

"I see," said the officer, glancing at the ship's armament, and turning

pale, "I am your prisoner."

"No--my guest," responded Paul, winningly. "Pray, let me relieve you of

your--your--cane."

Thus humorously he received the officer's delivered sword.

"Now tell me, sir, if you please," he continued, "what brings out his

Majesty's ship Drake this fine morning? Going a little airing?"

"She comes out in search of you, but when I left her side half an hour

since she did not know that the ship off the harbor was the one she

sought."

"You had news from Whitehaven, I suppose, last night, eh?"

"Aye: express; saying that certain incendiaries had landed there early

that morning."

"What?--what sort of men were they, did you say?" said Paul, shaking his

bonnet fiercely to one side of his head, and coming close to the

officer. "Pardon me," he added derisively, "I had forgot you are my

_guest_. Israel, see the unfortunate gentleman below, and his men

forward."

The Drake was now seen slowly coming out under a light air, attended by

five small pleasure-vessels, decorated with flags and streamers, and

full of gaily-dressed people, whom motives similar to those which drew

visitors to the circus, had induced to embark on their adventurous trip.

But they little dreamed how nigh the desperate enemy was.

"Drop the captured boat astern," said Paul; "see what effect that will

have on those merry voyagers."

No sooner was the empty boat descried by the pleasure-vessels than

forthwith, surmising the truth, they with all diligence turned about and

re-entered the harbor. Shortly after, alarm-smokes were seen extending

along both sides of the channel.

"They smoke us at last, Captain Paul," said Israel.

"There will be more smoke yet before the day is done," replied Paul,

gravely.

The wind was right under the land, the tide unfavorable. The Drake

worked out very slowly.

Meantime, like some fiery-heated duellist calling on urgent business at

frosty daybreak, and long kept waiting at the door by the dilatoriness

of his antagonist, shrinking at the idea of getting up to be cut to

pieces in the cold--the Ranger, with a better breeze, impatiently tacked

to and fro in the channel. At last, when the English vessel had fairly

weathered the point, Paul, ranging ahead, courteously led her forth, as

a beau might a belle in a ballroom, to mid-channel, and then suffered

her to come within hail.

"She is hoisting her colors now, sir," said Israel.

"Give her the stars and stripes, then, my lad."

Joyfully running to the locker, Israel attached the flag to the

halyards. The wind freshened. He stood elevated. The bright flag blew

around him, a glorified shroud, enveloping him in its red ribbons and

spangles, like up-springing tongues, and sparkles of flame.

As the colors rose to their final perch, and streamed in the air, Paul

eyed them exultingly.

"I first hoisted that flag on an American ship, and was the first among

men to get it saluted. If I perish this night, the name of Paul Jones

shall live. Hark! they hail us."

"What ship are you?"

"Your enemy. Come on! What wants the fellow of more prefaces and

introductions?"

The sun was now calmly setting over the green land of Ireland. The sky

was serene, the sea smooth, the wind just sufficient to waft the two

vessels steadily and gently. After the first firing and a little

manoeuvring, the two ships glided on freely, side by side; in that mild

air Exchanging their deadly broadsides, like two friendly horsemen

walking their steeds along a plain, chatting as they go. After an hour

of this running fight, the conversation ended. The Drake struck. How

changed from the big craft of sixty short minutes before! She seemed

now, above deck, like a piece of wild western woodland into which

choppers had been. Her masts and yards prostrate, and hanging in

jack-straws; several of her sails ballooning out, as they dragged in the

sea, like great lopped tops of foliage. The black hull and shattered

stumps of masts, galled and riddled, looked as if gigantic woodpeckers

had been tapping them.

The Drake was the larger ship; more cannon; more men. Her loss in killed

and wounded was far the greater. Her brave captain and lieutenant were

mortally wounded.

The former died as the prize was boarded, the latter two days after.

It was twilight, the weather still severe. No cannonade, naught that mad

man can do, molests the stoical imperturbability of Nature, when Nature

chooses to be still. This weather, holding on through the following day,

greatly facilitated the refitting of the ships. That done, the two

vessels, sailing round the north of Ireland, steered towards Brest. They

were repeatedly chased by English cruisers, but safely reached their

anchorage in the French waters.

"A pretty fair four weeks' yachting, gentlemen," said Paul Jones, as the

Ranger swung to her cable, while some French officers boarded her. "I

bring two travellers with me, gentlemen," he continued. "Allow me to

introduce you to my particular friend Israel Potter, late of North

America, and also to his Britannic Majesty's ship Drake, late of

Carrickfergus, Ireland."

This cruise made loud fame for Paul, especially at the court of France,

whose king sent Paul, a sword and a medal. But poor Israel, who also had

conquered a craft, and all unaided too--what had he?