The Red City Part 20

The master knew Hugh Wynne well, and after a pause said grimly: "Very good. It is out of the frying-pan into the fire." He hated it, but there was the order, and obedience to those over him and from those under him was part of his sailor creed.

In four days, about dawn, delayed by the slower s.h.i.+p, they were off the port of St. Pierre. The harbor was empty, and there was no blockade as yet.

"And now," said the captain, "what to do? You are the master, it seems.

Run in, I suppose?"

"No, wait a little, Captain. If, when I say what I want done, it seems to you unreasonable, I shall give it up. Get a bit nearer; beat about; hoist our own flag. They will want to understand, and will send a boat out. Then we shall see."

"I can do that, but every hour is full of risk." Still he obeyed, beginning to comprehend his supercargo and to like the audacity of the game.

Near to six o'clock the bait was taken. A boat put out and drew near with caution. The captain began to enjoy it. "A nibble," he said.

"Give me a boat," said De Courval. "They will not come nearer. There are but five men. I must risk it. Let the men go armed." In ten minutes he was beside the Frenchmen, and seeing a young man in uniform at the tiller, he said in French: "I am from that brig. She is loaded with provisions for this port or San Domingo, late from the States."

"Very well. You are welcome. Run in. The vicomte will take all, and pay well. _Foi d'honneur_, monsieur; it is all as I say. You are French?"

"Yes; an _emigre_."

"We like not that, but I will go on board and talk it over."

When on the _Marie_ they went to the cabin with the captains of the two American s.h.i.+ps. "And now let us talk," said De Courval. "Who commands here for the republic?"

"Citizen Rochambeau; a good Jacobin, too."

De Courval was startled. "A cousin of my mother--the vicomte--a Jacobin!"

"Is monsieur for our side?" asked the officer.

"No; I am for the king."

"King, monsieur! The king was guillotined on January 21."

"_Mon Dieu!_"

"May I ask your name, monsieur?"

"I am the Vicomte de Courval, at your service."

"By St. Denis! I know; you are of Normandy, of the religion, like ourselves. I am the Comte de Lourmel."

"And with the Jacobins?"

"Yes. I have an eminent affection for my head. When I can, my brother and I will get away."

"Then we may talk plainly as two gentlemen."

"a.s.suredly."

"I do not trust that vicomte of yours--a far-away cousin of my mother, I regret to say."

"Nor would I trust him. He wished the town illuminated on account of the king's death."

"It seems incredible. Poor Louis! But now, to our business. Any hour may bring a British cruiser. This cargo is worth in peace twenty thousand dollars. Now it is worth thirty-two thousand,--salt beef, potatoes, pork, onions, salt fish, and some forty casks of Madeira. Ordinarily we should take home coffee and sugar, but now it is to be paid for in louis d'or or in gold joes, here--here on board, monsieur."

"But the cargo?"

"The sea is quiet. When the money is on deck, we will run in nearer, and you must lighter the cargo out. I will give you one day, and only one.

There is no other way. We are well armed, as you see, and will stand no Jacobin tricks. Tell the vicomte Sans Culottes I am his cousin, De Courval. Stay, I shall write a note. It is to take on my terms, and at once, or to refuse."

"He will take it. Money is plenty; but one cannot eat louis d'ors. How long do you give us?"

"Two hours to go and return; and, monsieur, I am trusting you."

"We will play no tricks." And so presently the boat pushed off and was away at speed.

"And now what is all that d.a.m.ned parley-vouing? It was too fast for me,"

said the captain; but on hearing, he said it would work. He would hover round the _George Was.h.i.+ngton_ with cannon loaded and men armed. Within the time set the officer came back with another boat. "I have the money," he said. "The vicomte swore well and long, and would much desire your company on sh.o.r.e." De Courval laughed. "I grieve to disappoint him."

"The lighters are on the way," said De Lourmel--"a dozen; and upon my honor, there will be no attempt at capture."

The s.h.i.+p ran in nearer while the gold was counted, and then with all possible haste the cargo, partly a deck-load, was lightered away, the wind being scarcely more than a breeze. By seven at night the vessel was cleared, for half of the _Marie's_ men had helped. A small barrel of wine was put in the count's boat, and a glad cheer rang out as all sail was set.

Then at last the captain came over to where De Courval, leaning against the rail, allowed himself the first pipe of the busiest day of his life; for no man of the crew had worked harder.

"I want to say you were right, young man, and I shall be glad to say so at home. I came darn near to not doing it."

"Why, without you, sir," said De Courval, "I should have been helpless.

The cutting out was yours, and this time we divide honors and hold our tongues."

"Not I," said the master; nor did he, being as honest as any of his race of sea-dogs.

The lumbering old brig did fairly well. After three stormy weeks, in mid-March off the Jersey coast they came in sight of a corvette flying the tricolor. The captain said things not to be put on record, and signaled his clumsy consort far astern to put to sea. "An Englishman all over," said the captain. Then he sailed straight for the corvette with the flag he loved flying. There was a smart gale from the east, and a heavy sea running. Of a sudden, as if alarmed, the Stars and Stripes came down, a tricolor went up, and the _Marie_ turned tail for the Jersey coast. De Courval watched the game with interest. The captain enjoyed it, as men who gamble on sea chances enjoy their risks, and said, laughing, "I wonder does that man know the coast? He's a morsel reckless."

The corvette went about and followed. "Halloa! He's going to talk!" A cannon flash was followed by a ball, which struck the rail.

"Not bad," said the captain, and turning, saw De Courval on the deck.

"Are you hit, man?" he cried.

"Not badly." But the blood was running freely down his stocking as he staggered to his feet.

"Get him below!"

"No, no!" cried De Courval. The mate ripped open his breeches. "A bad splinter wound, sir, and an ugly bruise." In spite of his protests, they carried him to the cabin and did some rude sea surgery. Another sharp fragment had cut open his cheek, but what Dr. Rush would have called "diachylon plaster" sufficed for this, and in great pain he lay and listened, still for a time losing blood very freely. The corvette veered and let go a broadside while the captain looked up at the rigging anxiously. "Too much sea on," he said. "I will lay his d.a.m.n ribs on Absecom Beach, if he holds on."

Apparently the corvette knew better, and manoeuvered in hope to catch a too wary foe, now flying along the shallow coast in perilous waters.

At nightfall the corvette gave up a dangerous chase, got about, and was off to sea. At morning the English war-s.h.i.+p caught the brig, being clever enough to lie off the capes. The captain of the _George Was.h.i.+ngton_ wisely lacked knowledge of her consort the schooner, and the Englishman took out of his s.h.i.+p five men, declaring them Britons, although they spoke sound, nasal Cape Cod American.