ENGLAND AND FRANCE COME TO BLOWS.
The Baldwins returned to their home shortly after the departure of the
discomfited officer, and listened with intense interest to Cabot's
report of all that had taken place during their absence.
"So one but a Yankee would have thought of such a plan!" exclaimed
White, "or had the cheek to carry it out. But it makes me feel as mean
as dirt to have run away and left you to face the music alone."
"You needn't," replied Cabot, "for your absence was one of the most
important things, and I couldn't possibly have carried out the
programme if you had been there. Now, though, we've got to hustle, for
I expect that navy chap will be back again to-morrow, and whatever we
can accomplish between now and then will probably end the
lobster-packing business so far as this factory is concerned."
That night the workers received a reinforcement, as unexpected as it
was welcome, from the crew of the Yankee schooner, who, led by Captain
Bland, came to assist their fellow countryman in his struggle against
foreign oppression. With this timely and expert aid, the canning
business was so rushed that by ten o'clock of the next morning, when
the lookout again reported a launch to be approaching, every can was
filled and the pack was completed. More than half of it had also been
removed from the factory and stowed aboard the "Sea Bee," ready for
delivery to the St. Johns purchaser.
"I wish he were here now," said White, "so that we might settle up our
business with him before those chaps arrive."
"Well, he isn't," replied Cabot, "and we must protect the goods as best
we can until he comes. In the meantime I think you'd better disappear
and leave me to manage alone, the same as I did yesterday."
"No. I won't run away again. I'm going to stay and face the music."
"All right," agreed Cabot. "Perhaps it will be just as well, since the
factory is closed sure enough this time. You must let me do all the
talking, though, and perhaps in some way we'll manage to scare 'em off
again."
"If we could have just one day more we'd be all right," said White,
"but there they come. Only, I say! They are Frenchmen this time. See
the flag."
Sure enough. Instead of flying the British Union Jack the launch that
now appeared in the harbour displayed the tri-colour of the French
Republic. Thus, when Cabot and White reached the wharf, they were just
in time to greet their acquaintance of St. Pierre, the lieutenant of
the French frigate "Isla," whom White had so neatly outwitted in that
port. As he stepped ashore he was accompanied by a sharp-featured,
black-browed individual, whom White recognised as M. Delom, proprietor
of a French lobster factory located on another shore of the bay.
"That chap has come for pickings and stealings," he remarked in a low
tone.
"Shouldn't wonder," returned Cabot, "for he looks like a thief."
"Ah, ha, Monsieur Baldwin! I haf catch you zis time, an' you cannot
now gif me what you call ze sleep," cried the French lieutenant. "Also
I am come to siz your property, for you may no more can ze lob of ze
Française. Behol'! I have ze aut'orization."
So saying, the officer drew forth and unfolded with a flourish a paper
that he read aloud. It was an order for the confiscation and removal
of all property owned by a person, or persons, named Baldwin, and used
by them contrary to law in canning lobsters on the French territory of
Newfoundland, and it was signed: "Charmian, Capitan de Frégate."
"So, Monsieur Baldwin," continued the officer, when he had finished the
reading, "you will gif to me ze key of your factory zat I may from it
remof ze materiel. I sall also take your schooner for to convey it to
ze factory of M. Delom. Is it plain, ma intention?"
"Your intention is only too plain," responded White. "You are come to
aid that thief in stealing my property; but you are too late, for the
factory no longer belongs to the Baldwin family."
"Ah! Is it so? Who zen belong to it?"
"This gentleman is the present owner," replied White, "and you must
arrange your business with him."
"Who is he?" demanded the Frenchman, surveying Cabot contemptuously
from head to foot. "But I do not care. Ze material mus all ze same be
remof."
"I am an American citizen," interrupted Cabot, "and I forbid you to
touch my property. If you do so I shall claim damages through the
American government, and in the meantime I shall call on the British
frigate now in this bay for protection."
"For ze Americains I do not care," cried the Frenchman, assuming a
theatrical attitude. "For l'Anglais, pouf! I also care not. When it
is my duty I do him. Ze material mus be remof. Allons, mes garçons."
A dozen French bluejackets, armed with cutlasses and pistols, had
gathered behind their leader, and now these sprang forward with a
shout, clearing a way through the collected throng of villagers.
Advancing upon the main entrance to the factory, they quickly battered
down its door and rushed inside. With them went swarthy-faced Delom,
who gloated over the spoil that now seemed within his grasp, and which
would make his own factory the best equipped on the coast, he was
especially pleased to note the pack all boxed ready for shipment, and
our lads saw him direct the officer's attention to it. As a result the
latter gave an order, and in another minute a file of French
bluejackets, each with a case of canned lobster on his shoulder, was
marching towards the door.
Just as they reached it there came a shout and a tramp of heavy feet
from the outside. Then a stern voice cried:
"Halt! What are you doing here, you French beggars? Drop those boxes
and clear out."
As the Frenchmen halted irresolute, their officer, who could not see
what was going on, but imagined that some of the villagers were
blocking the entrance, shouted for them to march on and clear away the
canaille who dared oppose them.
The French bluejackets attempted to obey, but, with their first forward
movement, they were met by an inrush of sturdy British sailors, who
sent them and their burdens crashing to the floor in every direction.
Some of them as they regained their feet drew their cutlasses, while
others fell upon the new-comers with their fists. A pistol shot rang
out, and a British sailor pitched heavily forward. At the same instant
both officers sprang into the mêlée, beating back their men with the
flat of their swords, and fiercely ordering them to desist from further
fighting.
[Illustration: Others fell on the new-comers with their fists.]
So sharp had been the brief encounter between these hereditary enemies,
that as they sullenly withdrew their clutch from each other's throats a
British sailor remained on the floor striving to staunch the blood that
spurted from a bullet wound in his leg, while near at hand lay a French
bluejacket, as white and motionless as though dead. Another Frenchman
had a broken arm, while several others on both sides looked askance at
their enemies from blackened eyes and swollen faces.
"Sir!" cried the French lieutenant, the moment order was so far
restored that he could make himself heard, "I am bidden by my
commandant, ze Chevalier Charmian, capitan de frigate 'Isla,' to remof
all material from zis building, and in his name I protest against zis
mos outrage interference."
"Sir," answered the British officer, "I am ordered by my captain to
destroy all property contained in this building, and not permit the
removal of a single article."
"But I will not allow it destroyed!"
"And I will not allow it removed."
For a moment the two glared at each other in speechless rage. Then the
Frenchman said:
"As humanity compels me to gif immediate attention to my men, wounded
by ze unprovoked assault of your barbarians, I sall at once carry zem
to my sheep, where I sail immediately also report zis outrage to my
commandant."
"Same here," replied the Englishman, laconically, and with this both
officers ordered their men to fall back to the launches, carrying with
them their wounded comrades.
During the progress of this thrilling episode our two lads had watched
it in breathless excitement without once thinking of leaving the
building, though a back door opened close at hand. So intent were they
upon what was taking place that they did not notice the approach of a
third person until he was close beside them and had addressed White by
name. He was the St. Johns travelling man, who had engaged the Baldwin
pack for his firm, and now he said in low, hurried tones:
"You fellows want to skip out of this while you can, for that British
officer has got orders to arrest you both and carry you to St. Johns
for trial. Charges--contempt of court and carrying on an illegal
business. Awfully sorry I can't take your goods, but order has been
issued that any one handling them will also be arrested and subject to
heavy fine. Hurry up. They are making a move, and he'll be looking
for you directly. Don't let on that I gave you the tip."
With this the man moved away, and without exchanging a word our lads
slipped out of the nearby door.
So fully was the British officer occupied in getting his men back to
their launch without making another attack upon their hated rivals,
that not until all were safely on board did he remember that he had
been charged to bring off two prisoners. Now he was in a quandary.
Those whom he desired were nowhere to be seen, and he dared not leave
his men, whose fighting blood was still at fever heat, long enough to
go in search of them. Also the French launch was about to depart, and
it would never do for the captain of the "Isla" to be informed of the
recent unfortunate encounter in advance of his own commander. So, with
a last futile look ashore, he reluctantly gave the order to shove off,
and side by side, their crews screaming taunts at each other, the two
launches raced out of the harbour.
As Cabot and White watched them from a place of snug concealment, the
latter heaved a sigh of relief, saying:
"Well, I'm mighty glad they're gone, and haven't got us with them; but
I do wish that fight could have lasted a few minutes longer."
"Wasn't it lovely!" retorted Cabot, "and isn't the lobster industry on
this coast just about the most exciting business in the world!"