THE ARREST
There was a large crowd lining the shores as the little boat rowed up,
and as Captain Conyngham, on whom all eyes were centered, climbed up
the ladder to the wharf a large man bent over and extended a helping
hand. There was a greeting in the grasp also, and a ring of welcome in
his voice.
“Back so soon, eh?” exclaimed the elder Ross, for it was he. “We hardly
expected you for a week or more to come. And you have got her! The news
is about the town; don’t stop to parley here. My brother and Hodge and
Allan are waiting. There is much to do. What have you there?”
The boatmen were handing up three large canvas bags. The chattering
crowd looked at them and pointed excitedly.
“The mails for Europe,” returned Conyngham softly. “Let us get together
and consider what is best to do. Bad cess to them, I wish they were off
my hands!”
As he spoke he started suddenly.
“What is it?” demanded Ross in a low tone.
“That blackguard English spy!” returned Conyngham. “Didn’t you see him?
There he goes on a run up the street.”
By this time three sailors had also climbed to the wharf and picked
up the canvas bags. The crowd made way as the little party started
forward, Ross and the young captain leading. The people, on the whole,
were in smiling good nature. There was even a trace of exultation in
their expression, a few clapped their hands, there were some murmured
“Bravos.” Had they been English or American they might have fallen to
cheering.
“Heaven grant we have not been rash,” muttered Ross, “but there will be
a tempest as soon as the news reaches Paris.”
“What will there be when it reaches London?” returned Conyngham
laughing. “Perhaps this time our friend Lord Stormont will demand his
recall or Parliament will send for him. Egad! then the fat will be in
the fire!”
Although they had passed close to the spot where Ross and Allan and
Hodge were standing, no sign of recognition passed between them. The
crowd had the politeness not to follow, and soon Conyngham and Ross
turned down the corner toward the little inn at which the first meeting
had been held; the sailors carrying the canvas bags were close at their
heels, and, the landlord of the tavern appearing at the doorway, the
party entered. In a few minutes the rest of the plotters appeared,
having come in by another entrance, and the sailors returned to the
ship’s boat.
As soon as they were all seated about the table in the little front
room and had ascertained that there was no chance of their conversation
being overheard, Conyngham related his experience.
The company laughed heartily as he told of the English captain’s
discomfiture, but Hodge a moment later looked very grave. So much so,
in fact, that Allan, noticing it, clapped him on the shoulder.
“What is it, friend William? You look suddenly stricken with grief or
disappointment.”
“I am just thinking,” was the return, “that a great deal will have
to be done before the sun goes down this day. One of us will have to
post at once to Paris. We must not delay turning over the mails to the
proper authorities, and--another thing--we must get this news to the
ears of the Count de Vergennes before it is brought to him by Lord
Stormont. I like not altogether de Vergennes’s attitude. He would
see us all at the bottom of the sea rather than sacrifice a chosen
project of his own, and, as I have said many a time, back of all his
half-expressed desires to lend us assistance is but the hope of aiding
France’s interest.”
“Well, if any one is to go,” returned the elder Ross, “it should be
you, Mr. Hodge, unless you consider it necessary that the captain here
should go up in person.”
Conyngham shook his head. “I’m afraid that would be impossible,” he
put in. “It would never do at all, at all. I will have to stand by my
ship for a few days at least, until we dispose of the prizes in such a
manner as to enable me to pay off my crew. Is there much money in the
treasury, Mr. Ross?” he asked.
The latter laughed. “I don’t suppose that we have fifty pounds among us
at present,” he said. “The treasury has been on the ebb for the past
fortnight, but M. Grand, our banker in Paris, is hopeful.”
“There is a good four thousand pounds of ready money in the prizes,”
said Conyngham, “and much that could be disposed of on the nail, could
we but put it immediately in the market. But it is my belief what must
be done must be done quickly. Mr. Hodge should start with the mails for
Paris--no one will recognize what those canvas bags contain, and we
should scent out some purchaser and sail out of the harbor this very
afternoon and hold a little auction off the coast.”
“How about the prisoners?” interrupted Mr. Hodge. “What are we to do
with them?”
“I, for one, will say ‘good riddance,’” returned Conyngham, “when once
they are on shore. We could never keep them while we are here in port,
and I propose giving them a run this very day.”
Upon this point all of the party were agreed, and also upon the
necessity of Hodge’s immediate departure for the capital. The latter,
accompanied by Allan, left the room in order to see the proprietor of
the tavern, to which establishment was attached a stable containing a
number of excellent horses and equipages suited for the highroad. They
had been gone but a few minutes when suddenly Allan returned, evidently
in a state of some perturbation.
“Something has happened,” he said earnestly, “that requires our
immediate attention, gentlemen. A moment since I left Mr. Hodge. I was
standing at the entrance to the stable-yard, from which a good view
could be had of the harbor down the street. Suddenly there appeared a
vessel sailing into the field of vision, and from her looks I knew her
to be an English sloop of war. She was taking in sail and preparing to
drop anchor in the outer harbor, when suddenly a small boat rowed out
to her; an instant later she broke out her sails again, and is now
coming in close to where the Surprise and the other two are anchored. I
don’t like the looks of things.”
“We can obtain a good view of what is happening from one of the windows
of an upper room,” said Conyngham.
“Let us adjourn there,” suggested the elder Ross. “I know the
way--come, follow me.”
Without more ado he led the rest of the party into the hall, and they
hurriedly ascended to the second floor. Entering one of the rooms, they
rushed to the window.
As the inn stood upon rising ground, they had a free and uninterrupted
view of the harbor over the roofs of the houses. Sure enough, there
was the British sloop of war working her way in close to shore, where
Conyngham’s little squadron lay. A single glance and the captain spoke
quickly.
“I must get on board at once,” he said. “That fellow’s intentions are
evident. Here, I have a small pocket glass. There is something doing on
board the Surprise.”
As he spoke he pulled a small spy-glass from his pocket and hastily
adjusting it lifted it to his eye.
“The Surprise is getting under way,” he said. “That Yankee first mate
of mine has his wits about him, but, gentlemen, this is no place for
me; I must get on board, if possible.”
With that he left the others, and soon they could see him on the street
running at a dog-trot down toward the wharves. Just at this moment also
there was the rattle of wheels and the clatter of hoofs, and out of
the gateway of the stable-yard rolled a post-chaise, on the high seat
of which sat Mr. Hodge. He had gone back to the dining-room, but not
finding his companions had decided to delay no longer, but to push on
at once.
The commissioners in Paris must be informed of what had happened, and
steps must be taken to prepare the way, for the English ambassador was
sure to raise trouble.
Conyngham had made good time of it and reached the water’s edge
before the English sloop of war was half-way across the harbor. The
watchers at the window saw him disappear around a corner; a minute
later a row-boat shot out from the wharf, and through the glass that
the captain had left behind, Mr. Ross descried the rowers bending all
their strength at the oars in an endeavor to reach the lugger before
the Englishman could get much nearer. The wind was against the latter,
and he had been forced to tack, but Mr. Ross could see that they were
preparing to lower away a boat and that the bulwarks were lined with
men.
“There!” he cried suddenly, “Conyngham is standing up in the stern
sheets encouraging the rowers. By all the powers, he’ll make it! Row!
row!” he cried, as if his voice could be heard by the men at the oars.
The big foresail of the Surprise had been dropped, and she was slowly
swinging around as if in an endeavor to make her way out through the
crowd of anchored vessels near her to the open waters that lay beyond.
This could be discerned without the aid of the glass, and Allan
perceiving it struck his fist into the palm of his other hand.
“The fool!” he cried. “What is he doing that for? It is the very thing
the Englishman would like best--to get him in the open. His chances
were much better if he stayed nearer shore.”
Ross, whose hand was trembling so that he could hardly hold the glass,
now spoke up again.
“There!” he cried. “Look! Conyngham has joined his vessel. See, she
swings back again and turns in toward shore. She’ll run that little
vessel down. Heavens! that was close; she just touched.” He whirled and
looked at the others. “Gentlemen, there’s sailing for you,” he said.
“Did you see that? He steered in between those two small ones, and I
know what his intentions are. He’s going to try to run the lugger into
the basin next the long wharf.”
“He never can get through,” interposed his brother; “there isn’t room
enough.”
“He may,” was the elder Ross’s answer, “and at all events he’s going to
try it--and see, the packet follows him!”
A silence followed as they all watched the Surprise slipping along so
close to the shore that her hull was now entirely hid from sight and
nothing but her big sail could be seen gliding past the vessels moored
to the landing-places. Then all at once the big sail was clewed up,
and under the impetus that she had gathered the Surprise forged slowly
ahead. Into the basin she slipped without a wharf line being sent to
shore, and grinding along the string-piece her speed slowly slackened
and then stopped. Ropes were immediately passed out and she was made
fast, and at this moment, as if foiled in her design to lay her
alongside, the British sloop dropped her anchor. The Prince of Orange
came into the basin in the Surprise’s wake.
“Neatly done, by Jove!” exclaimed Allan. “He handled her as if she were
naught but a shallop. Gentlemen, let us separate, and meet at the long
wharf as soon as we can get there.”
At once they descended the stairs and went out into the street, where,
in order to attract the least suspicion and to carry out the plan
that they always adopted of being strangers to one another, they went
different ways, but all heading at last in the direction of the shore.
A surging mob was gathered on the long wharf and on the decks of the
vessels moored near it. At one place there was a group of a half
score or more men talking excitedly in English among themselves. The
Frenchmen surrounding them were listening with evident amusement,
although they could not understand what was being said. The men who
formed the group were the prisoners whom Conyngham had released as soon
as his vessel touched the wharf; in fact, he had driven them overboard
ashore almost at the point of the pistol.
Hastily his crew were carrying out some bales and boxes from the
forward hold of the prize, and the captain standing upon the bulwarks
directing them.
The crowd was watching all this as if it were part of a play arranged
for their special benefit.
Mr. Ross elbowed his way quietly through the crowd and soon was close
to the vessel’s side. Conyngham looked down and saw him.
“The jig is up,” he said, speaking so that Ross could hear him.
“They’re going to hand us over. I thought as much from the looks of
things. They expected me to come back here--it was all prepared, but I
was a little ahead of time.”
“Well, what are you up to now?” asked Mr. Ross. “Why all this
unloading?”
“Merely for the establishment of international good feeling,” Conyngham
returned. “You’ll see in a minute.”
From his post of vantage in the bulwarks of the vessel he turned, and,
taking off his hat, addressed the crowd that up to this minute, as we
have said, had been nothing but amused spectators.
“Citizens of Dunkirk, people of France,” he said, “help yourselves.
Here are bales of fine English cloth and English cutlery. Sure, they’re
things ornamental and things beautiful. Help yourselves; they’re yours
for the taking, and the gift of the United Colonies of America and
Gustavus Conyngham, captain in the navy.”
It was enough. With something that sounded like a cheer mixed with
laughter, the crowd rushed upon the bales and boxes. Many climbed
unhindered over the vessel’s sides and dived down the hatchway.
Conyngham leaped to the wharf.
“Now,” said he, “let the Englishmen try to land and take us. The
authorities were going to let them board us while we lay at anchor
unprotected. I know that, for it was a French officer who went out to
the English sloop. Who can believe a Frenchman anyhow? I have told my
crew to scatter, and each man for himself. This is a pretty ending to
our project, by the piper! isn’t it?” he added bitterly.
Ross did not reply, for just then he caught a glimpse of something up
the wharf that had called his attention. There was a gleam of steel
and a flash of blue and red, and straight toward them came marching
a company of French soldiers. At the head walked an officer holding
a paper in his hand, and by his side was the very English spy that
Conyngham had seen run up the wharf. He perceived all in a glance.
Turning to Ross, the young captain spoke quickly.
“Here,” he said, slipping a long sealed packet into his friend’s hand.
“This is of the utmost importance. See that it reaches Dr. Franklin’s
hands in Paris at once; it must not be lost, for it may save my life.
De Vergennes has forsaken us.”
“Come,” replied Ross, hiding the paper in his pocket. “Endeavor to
hide--you may escape in the crowd.”
“And be hunted like a rat with a ferret or taken like a criminal. Never
that in the world. Appear not to know me.”
With that Conyngham stepped forward into the open space that the crowd
had formed in giving way for the soldiers’ coming. Stepping boldly out
to meet the company, the captain drew a short sword from under his long
blue coat, and advancing toward the officer he extended him the hilt
across the hollow of his left arm.
The officer was so surprised that he halted, as if not knowing what to
do, then in some hesitation he took the proffered weapon. At the same
time Conyngham spoke in a loud voice:
“Captain Conyngham of the American navy gives himself and his sword
into the keeping of the Government of France.”
Then he glanced about to the English spy, but the latter had
disappeared.
Leaving a guard of soldiers about the vessel, the officer and part of
his company walked back up the wharf. Before he had gone many steps he
returned the short sword to Conyngham, who took it with a smile and
walked off by the officer’s side, chatting pleasantly in French with a
strong touch of Irish brogue.
At the same corner where he had passed them but a few hours previously
stood his friends. Again they gave no sign of recognition.