HOME AND LIBERTY
The American squadron and its prizes put into the Texal; Landais was at
once removed from his command and sent home to France. In a short time
Paul Jones, with Ethan and Longsword, sailed in the Alliance for that
country also, the commander having shifted his crew and officers into
that vessel.
The delight of Dr. Franklin at receiving the long lost dispatch was
very great; and he thanked the three over and over again. The day
following their arrival at Paris, he took Ethan aside.
“There are many important things which I desire to say to Congress,”
said the philosopher, “and I want a trusty messenger to carry my
report. Will you go?”
For some time Ethan had felt a longing for home and friends; and now
that the paper was recovered he had nothing further to keep him in
France. So he answered eagerly:
“I will.”
“Very well,” said Dr. Franklin in a pleased tone. “A French cruiser
sails for Baltimore within a week.”
“If your report is ready I will cross in her,” said Ethan, promptly.
The minister’s dispatches were ready next day, and Ethan bid good-bye
to Captain Jones and Richard Dale.
“We stay to fight the English,” said the former, as he clasped the
lad’s hand, “and you will return to fight them, I know.”
“They are striking good blows at home,” said Dale, “and we upon this
side must look to ourselves or we’ll be left far behind.”
The last that Ethan saw of this gallant pair they were standing upon
the flags of a Paris street waving their hats in farewell as he and
Longsword once more took the road for Brest.
The young American and Irish dragoon arrived in good time at that
seaport and boarded the cruiser the day before she sailed. After
a voyage of six weeks against contrary winds they were landed at
Baltimore, and at once set out for Philadelphia.
Since they had set foot in that city it had been in the hands of the
British, and Sir Henry Clinton had only evacuated it a short time
before.
Dr. Franklin’s dispatches were delivered to Mr. Hancock, and were
eagerly received and laid before Congress.
“I hope, sir,” said Ethan to Mr. Jefferson when he presented himself
to the great Virginian, “that you did not object to my sailing with
Captain Jones and so delaying my return.”
“Not in the least,” said Mr. Jefferson. “Dr. Franklin wrote me the
reason for it; you did what I would have expected you to do--and you
did it well.”
“Things are going badly for the cause, sir, I hear.”
“You arrive home at the country’s most gloomy period,” said Jefferson,
gravely. “Dark shadows seem to overhang us, and the British press
upon us from every side; the want of money makes Congress all but
helpless; our armies are lately scattered in the south, and in the
north Washington can do little more than fly before the battalions of
Clinton.”
There was a silence between them for some time; then Ethan said
quietly:
“In that case, sir, it seems to me that the nation wants a soldier much
more than you want a secretary.”
Jefferson took his meaning instantly, and wrung his hand.
“You are right,” said he heartily. “But why not the navy? You are a
born sailor.”
“I have witnessed too much of the delays of that branch of the
service,” said Ethan. “Constant waiting ashore for a ship while my
country needed my strength would be more than I could stand.”
“Then the army it shall be,” cried Mr. Jefferson. “You shall have a
commission within the week.”
The Virginian was as good as his word. The commission was in Ethan’s
hands in a week’s time; and in a fortnight he was serving as a
lieutenant in a regiment of horse in the army under Washington.
As the years of the conflict unrolled he rose in rank and in the esteem
of his commanders. Was there a hard-fought field, where only desperate
courage and shrewd blows carried the patriots to victory? Then there
you would be sure to find Ethan Carlyle, in the press of it, and at
his side the grim old war dog, Longsword.
And when peace spread her glittering wings above a new-born nation, the
gallant boy, now grown a young man, and with the epaulets of a major
upon his broad shoulders, laid down his bright sword with a sigh of
mingled regret and satisfaction.
“The war is done,” said Longsword.
“Yes,” replied Ethan, soberly. “The war is done; and now comes the
longer struggle to give the nation permanent life.”
THE END
TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:
Italicized text is surrounded by underscores: _italics_.
Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.
Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.
Superscript letters are preceded by a carat character: M^cIntyre.