IN PARIS AGAIN
Dr. Franklin had just returned from court. He had been saying many
pretty things to fair ladies, and had made his usual wise and witty
remarks to ministers and to courtiers, and now he seated himself in
his large arm-chair near the table, placed his big horn spectacles
upon his nose, and drew toward him a pile of correspondence and some
paper. Dipping his big quill into the inkstand, he paused a moment
before he began to write. On his face suddenly came an expression of
great pain. He pushed back his chair, and lifting his leg carefully
kicked off the heavy buckled shoe and rested his foot on a cushion
that lay on the floor. The good doctor was suffering a twinge from his
old enemy, the gout. At last, when he was more comfortable, a smile
of amusement lit up his features and he began scratching away quickly
with the squeaky quill pen. It was not a letter of state importance
or secret instructions that he was working on, for every now and then
his smile widened or changed to one of quizzical amusement. He had
abandoned himself to the whim of the moment, and when he had gone on
for an hour or so he paused and began to read what he had inscribed
aloud. It was an imaginary conversation between himself and his present
bodily visitor and tormentor, whom he referred to politely as “Madam
Gout.” He was defending himself against the accusations of the lady in
question as he read.
“I take--eh!--oh!--as much exercise--eh!” (here a twinge of pain seizes
him) “as I can, Madam Gout. You know my sedentary state, and on that
account it would seem, Madam Gout, as if you might spare me a little,
seeing it is not altogether my own fault.”
“Gout: Not a jot! Your rhetoric and your politeness are thrown away;
your apology avails nothing. If your situation in life is a sedentary
one, your amusements, your recreation, at least, should be active.
You ought to walk or ride; or, if the weather prevents that, play at
billiards. But----”
He had got as far as this in his reading when a servant knocked on the
door and softly entered.
“A gentleman named Mr. Hodge to see you, sir,” he said. “He says it is
of great importance.”
Dr. Franklin’s smile faded and he pushed the paper from him.
“Bid him enter at once,” he said, and an instant later Mr. Hodge
followed the servant into the room.
“Ah, good friend!” exclaimed Franklin. “You will pardon my rising,
for my position explains itself; but I see by your face that you have
something of import. Out with it and no beating about the bush. But I
pray you to tell me no bad news unless that can’t be helped. Come now,
what is it?”
In a few words Mr. Hodge related the story of Conyngham’s adventures
and the return with the packet. When he had finished, Franklin arose
and, despite the fact that one foot was shoeless, limped heavily two
or three times around the room. Then he at last replied:
“Your news, Mr. Hodge, is both good and bad. I might have known
that Conyngham would have done something of this sort, but just at
present affairs at court are somewhat puzzling. I can trust Turgot and
Maurepas, but the Count de Vergennes, Minister of Foreign Affairs, is
at times too deep for me. Just now he seems to be listening too much to
Lord Stormont. I would that we could get some good news from America
about the doings of the army. But what you say about the foreign mails
demands attention. They must go to de Vergennes this very moment. Do
you think that you are the first to bring the news of all this to
Paris?”
“That I can not say, sir,” returned Hodge. “There was a chaise and four
an hour or so ahead of me on the road. I obtained word of its having
preceded me at several stopping-places.”
“I am afraid that it is one of Stormont’s people,” said Franklin
slowly; “they have kept him well informed; but if so, I shall soon hear
of it.”
There came a ring at the garden bell just at this instant, for it was
near candle-time and the porter had closed the gate for the evening.
“There!” exclaimed the doctor. “That may be news now.” And almost
immediately the servant brought in the name of Mr. Silas Deane, Dr.
Franklin’s fellow commissioner to the court.
Following close upon the announcement Deane entered. He looked
surprised at seeing Hodge, and after greeting him spoke quickly.
“So you are already in possession of what I was going to tell you!”
he exclaimed. “Lord Stormont has been told of our Captain Conyngham’s
arrival at Dunkirk and has called on the Count de Vergennes. Dubourge
informed me so but a half hour since. Conyngham must be communicated
with and warned. Dubourge says that his lordship was in no pleasant
humor, and let drop some direful threats.”
Franklin seated himself in the big chair and placed his foot again on
the cushion.
“Gentlemen,” said he, “we must do some leaping; I mean you must--for my
leaping days are over; but ‘look before you leap’ is a good old maxim,
and let us do some looking. The position is just this: Had this thing
happened three weeks later, or had it followed upon receipt of good
news from America, it would cause me but little concern; but coming now
the situation is most grave. Captain Conyngham with his prizes must
leave Dunkirk and make his way to Spain. Through our friend Hortalez &
Co. I have made arrangements for the disposal of our property there. It
is not safe for him to remain in France. Are you too tired, Mr. Hodge,”
he concluded, “to post back to Dunkirk at once? Our American friends
there must be informed.”
Mr. Hodge sighed. He had had but little rest on the journey, and the
prospect of another long one was not alluring; but there was nothing
for it, and he acquiesced with good grace.
The doctor was beginning to give him some verbal instructions when the
bell at the gate rang again, and following close upon the servant’s
heels the younger Ross entered the room. He was travel-stained and
his clothes looked dusty and rumpled. Apparently he was surprised to
find the other gentlemen present, and stood somewhat embarrassed at
the door, but upon being presented to Mr. Deane, whom he had not met,
his embarrassment changed to excitement quickly, and he began to speak
hurriedly.
“Conyngham has been taken,” he said. “His vessel and the prizes have
been seized!”
“By the English?” exclaimed Franklin, almost jumping this time to his
feet, despite the remark about his leaping days.
“No, sir; he surrendered himself and his sword to the keeping of the
French Government. He and some of his men are in the French military
prison.”
“Did the English obtain possession of his papers?” anxiously inquired
Franklin.
“Not all of them, sir, for he sent you this, and bade me get it to
your hands with all possible despatch.” He handed to Dr. Franklin as
he spoke the big white packet that Conyngham had slipped into his
brother’s hand.
Franklin opened it nervously and glanced at the contents. Immediately
he appeared greatly relieved.
“Gentlemen,” he said, “you must both retire, and I suggest that you get
much-needed rest and repair here to-morrow morning. In the meantime Mr.
Deane and I will talk matters over. Will you breakfast with me here in
the garden?”
Ross and Hodge left in a few minutes, and Silas Deane and the good
doctor were alone.
“I wonder would it be possible for either of us to see de Vergennes
to-morrow?” asked Franklin, as he placed in a large portfolio the
papers that he had taken from the package.
“He apparently wishes to avoid an interview with me,” replied Silas
Deane, “for I have been unable to get at him for some time. But this is
bad news about Conyngham. If he has been thrown into a French prison,
it must still be at the instigation of the British authorities, and
they will demand that he be handed over to them. They will call his
doings by ugly names, I warrant you. There will be a flood of abuse and
invective.”
“And I have a good stop-gap for some of it,” was Franklin’s return. “I
do not think that they will proceed to extremes. To-morrow I will see
Maurepas, possibly Beaumarchais, and if needs be, the Queen.”
Deane was forced to smile despite himself, for he well knew the rumors
of the good doctor’s success with the fair sex; even the Queen had
succumbed to his magnetic wit and personality, so it was but a bald
statement of facts, and no boasting.
For some reason Franklin did not then show to Mr. Deane the paper which
proved that Conyngham held a commission in the new navy of the United
Colonies. Had he done so a great deal that subsequently happened might
have been averted. For half an hour longer the two commissioners spoke
of other matters. Affairs looked very glum indeed for the struggling
little nation across the water, and no news had been received for
some time. The failure of this last project boded ill for future
attempts, yet the mere fact that it had at first succeeded and that the
rattlesnake flag had been flown in the Channel proved to Europe that
the new nation was alive.