The Story of Paul Boyton Part 6

"Sons, I think you have done enough for France and it is best for you to leave Paris and go home."

Then calling an orderly he gave instructions that they should be taken to the rail road station and sent to Havre. Before leaving, he presented each with twenty-five francs and instructed the orderly to secure them transportation to the seacoast. The orderly who accompanied them to the station was an enthusiastic admirer of everything American. He had a brother in Quebec, which city he thought was about fourteen miles outside of New York. So vehement was the hospitality he had pressed on Paul and his companion that when he entered the station his military dignity was lost and nothing remained but his idea of treating his American friends to the best in the land. He placed them in a first cla.s.s compartment against the remonstrance of the guard, whom with drawn sabre, he defied to eject them. As the train rolled out of the station cries of "Vive la France," "Vive l'Amerique," were exchanged.

At Rouen, then held by the Germans who had military guards all around the station, the train was detained for over half an hour owing to an accident. While waiting, Paul and his companion left the station to procure some tobacco. They pa.s.sed a German soldier on guard at the gate who did not intercept them. On returning, the sentinel stubbornly refused them permission to enter notwithstanding the fact that they showed him their pa.s.s-ports and transportation; but they could not persuade him either in French or English to let them pa.s.s. At this moment a German officer arrived, when Paul advancing told their situation in French. Taking the transportation card from Paul's hand he showed it to the sentinel, and after many harsh sounding remarks in German he struck him with his open hand across the face. The soldier, still presenting arms to his superior officer showed no sign of resentment; not even a flush mounted to his cheek. The officer pa.s.sed them in and Paul remarked to him:

"No French soldier would have stood that treatment."

"Possibly not," answered the officer, "but German soldiers know what discipline is."

On arriving in Havre, Paul found many volunteers placed in the same position as himself. All were waiting a chance to return to America; most of them looking to the French government to a.s.sist them home. While waiting for these orders that were very tardy in coming, Paul made the acquaintance of a Danish Count who had served all through the war.

His quiet, gentle manners and evident embarra.s.sment at being surrounded by the rough crowd of adventurers and soldiers of fortune with whom Fate had thrown him, appealed to Paul's sympathy, He said to the Count: "Come with me and I will take care of you." They secured lodging together on the upper story in a house in the Rue de l'Hospital for the princely consideration of one franc a week, which the landlady informed them must be paid in advance. With the air of a millionaire, Paul paid the rent for the first week and cheerfully intimated to the landlady that they would require the best room in her house as soon as their remittances arrived. Their room was a miserable affair in the attic, lit up with one small window. The scant bed clothes often compelled them to sleep in their uniforms of a cold night. When they reached their apartment they compared notes and found that all the money they had between them amounted to eight francs and seventy five centimes, (about $1.75).

"We must sail close to the wind now, Count," said the ever cheerful Paul to the despondent Dane. "With good management we can live high on a franc a day."

They did not live high, but they subsisted. Paul had entire charge of the household affairs and he drove hard bargains with those whom he favored with his patronage. The little square, two cent cakes of sausage were eagerly scrutinized while he weighed the one cent loaves of bread in his hand. Every two cent herring was examined as closely as a gourmand would a porter-house steak or some rich game. When the provisions were secured, Paul returned to their apartment where he generally found the Count with his head between his hands, seated near the window. "Now for the banquet," he would exclaim as he lit up a sou's worth of wood with which to fry the herring. The little squares of sausage would be placed on the soap dish. At times he prevailed on the Count to go down and get the cracked pitcher full of water, which made up their morning drinking cordial, while Paul was frying the herring.

After it was cooked, it was scrupulously divided into two equal parts and they seated themselves. After meals they generally went out to ascertain news from the government in regard to sending them home. Some days they treated themselves to a regular table d'hote dinner at a little eating house kept by a widow on the quay. The cost of this dinner was thirteen sous and they could not often indulge in such a luxury. As time advanced things were getting more and more desperate. The Count was so gloomy and despondent that Paul feared he would end his life as he had threatened to do several times unless something turned up.

They were now indebted to the landlady for two weeks' room rent. She had a very sharp tongue and used to fire a broadside at them every time she would meet them. In pa.s.sing her door while ascending or descending, they generally removed their shoes as they did not wish to disturb her ladys.h.i.+p for whom they entertained great respect. Things continued to grow worse and worse until at last Paul spent the few last sous they had on two small loaves and a herring. They did not have even wood to fry the herring and were compelled to use the stump of a candle, which remained, to cook it with. Before retiring that night, Paul suggested to the Count the necessity of their trying to get some work, to which the Count replied that he would prefer death any time to the idea of going to work. Long before daylight Paul slipped quietly out of bed, dressed himself in his old uniform and proceeded in the direction of the docks. Near one of the bridges he saw a large group of men standing. He joined them and learned that they were all waiting for work, and that they expected the contractor along in a few minutes.

The boss soon made his appearance and commenced reading from a slip of paper: "I want ten men at such a dock, five men at another place, eight men at another place and twenty-five men at the dry docks." The crowd separated itself into gangs, Paul joining the one that was called last. As the men pa.s.sed the contractor, each one was handed a slip. When Paul's turn came to get his slip, the contractor looked at him curiously and said:

"Why, you are an American volunteer, what do you want here?"

"I want work," answered Paul, "and pretty badly too."

"Well," said the contractor: "I am sorry that I have no better job to give you today, but by to-morrow I will have something better."

Paul followed the gang to the dry docks where a large steamer had been hauled up. On exhibiting his piece of paper to the foreman, he received a three cornered sc.r.a.per, a piece of sharp steel with a handle about eighteen inches long. He was told off to a certain plank suspended by ropes down the side of the vessel in company with two old dock rats who eyed him rather sullenly as though he was an intruder. Paul quickly slipped down the rope and seated himself on the plank, while the two professors climbed leisurely down and took a seat on either end, he occupying the middle. The side of the s.h.i.+p was thickly studded with barnacles and other sh.e.l.l fish. She had just returned from a long voyage to the tropics and was very foul. The air was chilly and raw down on the dark, damp stone dock. Paul was anxious to warm himself, so made a furious onslaught on the barnacles and soon had them flying in every direction. He stopped for breath and found his companions, instead of following his example, were gazing at him with looks of disgust and astonishment. One of them exclaimed:

"Regard him, look at him!"

While the other, with feigned pity, tapped his forehead with the tips of his fingers, as much as to say, "He is crazy, my brother." One of them then placed his hand on Paul's arm and asked him how long he had been engaged in sc.r.a.ping s.h.i.+p's bottoms.

"This is my first day," answered Paul, thinking he might have done something wrong.

"I thought so," responded his questioner. "A few more mad men like you would ruin our work in the dock. Why, at the way you are going the s.h.i.+p's bottom would be clean before night fall. This is the way to do it," and he puthis sc.r.a.per against the side of the vessel and slowly and laboriously removed a single barnacle. Then he laid the sc.r.a.per on the plank beside him and drew out his pipe which he leisurely filled with tobacco and lighted. After taking a few whiffs he asked Paul where he was from and what caused him to seek work there. Paul fully explained his position and the cause that compelled him to work. After this, his two companions seemed to thaw out and entertained him with words of advice, instructing him in many methods of killing time when the foreman was not around. At noon all hands were called up out of the docks and each received a card to the value of two francs, which the foreman told Paul he could have cashed at the canteen by purchasing a dish of soup or a small piece of bread. Paul indulged in a five cent dinner and deeply regretted that the Count was not there to share it with him. He received one franc and seventy five centimes which he carefully stowed away. After dinner the plank was s.h.i.+fted and they resumed work at the barnacles. Before the six o'clock bell rang to cease work, Paul and his two preceptors were quite friendly. They told him that if he intended to pursue the business he should remember one thing:

"Never do what you did this morning, that is slip down the ropes first, particularly when there are three men to work on a plank, for," they gravely explained, "the two coming down last would occupy seats close to the ropes that net only act as a back brace when resting yourself, but would also be a means of saving your life in case the plank broke; when you could grab hold on the rope and the man in the middle would drop to the stones below and be killed. Of course the two clinging to the rope could be hoisted to the deck or be carefully lowered to the bottom."

At six o'clock Paul received a ticket for two more francs. To get it cashed, he purchased a gla.s.s of wine for two sous and then started on a run for his lodgings where he fully expected to find the Count dead.

He ran the blockade of the landlady's door without the formality of taking off his shoes. Das.h.i.+ng into the room he exclaimed:

"Count! Count, where are you?"

"Here I am," exclaimed a faint voice from the bed.

"Well, I'm glad you are not dead, we dine at the widow's to-day. Look at this."

The Count started up and gazed on the seventy-three cents Paul exhibited with eager eyes, then looking reproachfully at him he said:

"Paul, I hope you have not taken to the highway." "No," said Paul, "I worked for that and hard too, so come on and we will have such a dinner as we have not had in two weeks."

Under the genial influence of the banquet, the Count confessed to Paul that he had retired to bed in the hope of dying quietly of starvation, providing the landlady had not disturbed him as he felt convinced that Paul had abandoned him. That night the landlady received one week's room rent and graciously gave them three days more to settle up in full. Paul was out again before daylight and sought out the contractor. This day he got a job on the s.h.i.+p Fanita of San Francisco, discharging grain. It was much cleaner and easier than sc.r.a.ping the steamer's bottom. His job was to guide the sacks of grain out of the hold while a horse on the dock attached to a long line pa.s.sed over a block hoisted them up. While at this work the two mates of the s.h.i.+p stood near the hatchway and commenced making remarks about Paul whom they thought was a Frenchman.

"There is one of those French soldiers," said one.

"Yes," added the other; "he looks pretty hungry and thin; it is no wonder the Dutch licked them."

Paul smiled, but said nothing until a better opportunity presented itself, when he entered into conversation with the mate, who was much surprised to find that he was an American. At dinner time he was invited into the galley and regaled with a sea-pie until he was scarcely able to hail "Allons" to the driver of the horse on the dock, when he resumed work in the afternoon. That evening he was engaged by the captain of the vessel to keep tally on the sacks at five francs per diem. A few days later an order was issued from the Hotel de Ville that all foreign volunteers should a.s.semble there. A hundred and twelve responded to the call and a motley group mustered from all quarters of the globe, representing every branch of the French service and wearing every conceivable kind of a uniform. Notwithstanding the fact that some of them were from Norway, Sweden, Denmark, Ireland, Belgium, etc., they all wanted to be sent to America. The mayor informed them that arrangements had been made to transport them there at the expense of the French Government. He also said that he was authorized to give each volunteer the sum of twenty-five francs, a mattress, blanket and a supply of tin-ware. This joyful news was received with loud cries of "Vive la France! Vive la Republique!" and three hearty cheers were given for the mayor. As the volunteers joyously dispersed, an officer informed Paul that the mayor wished to see him in his private office.

When he entered, His Honor informed him that he desired him to take charge of the men on their pa.s.sage over.

"I know they are a pretty wild lot, and no doubt will not obey orders, still I will depend upon you to do your utmost to keep them quiet, and not have them disgrace the uniform they wear."

He then gave Paul a strong letter of recommendation commending him for his courage and service to France, also presenting him with the arms he bore in the service. To this day Paul retains his cha.s.sepot as a memento of the happy, careless days he pa.s.sed, while serving under the Tricolor of France.

Two days after, all the foreign volunteers were mustered to embark on the steamer Stromboli, the authorities taking the precaution not to give them the promised twenty-five francs until they had pa.s.sed up the gang- plank. As the steamer moved out of Havre the citizens turned out in large numbers to bid them G.o.d speed. And when the bows of the steamer were kissed by the waves of the channel, the boys were all pretty hoa.r.s.e shouting "Vive la France" in exchange for the cries of "Vive l'Amerique," that was sent over the water to them from the mighty crowd on sh.o.r.e.

The voyage to Liverpool was an uneventful one and the volunteers behaved well with the exception of emptying a cask of wine which they conscientiously filled again with water. This was the property of two French pa.s.sengers who spent most of their time playing cards on deck and whose amazement when they discovered that their wine bad turned into water, knew no bounds. When the volunteers arrived in Liverpool they found that the steamer England of the National, which was to convey them to the United States was broken down, so they were compelled to remain in Liverpool several days at the expense of the steams.h.i.+p company, until the Virginia of the same line was ready to sail.

While in Liverpool they were treated very well and aroused a great deal of interest owing to their varied uniforms and war-stained appearance.

While Paul and three of his companions were slowly sauntering one morning watching the sights, they beheld smoke proceeding from the bas.e.m.e.nt of a rubber store from which the affrighted employees were madly rus.h.i.+ng. Paul grabbed one of them and asked him if there was water anywhere around, and was informed that there was both water and hose attached in the bas.e.m.e.nt, but that he would be smothered if he attempted to reach it. Without hesitation, Paul plunged into the bas.e.m.e.nt, and fortunately came on the hose. Turning on the water he pushed his way back through the thick smoke and soon had the fire under control. It was a heap of rubbish and sc.r.a.p rubber that emitted far more smoke than flame. When the fire engines arrived, it was found that they had nothing to do and the proprietor was so well pleased that he gave Paul five pounds.

When the Virginia was ready to sail, all the soldiers were transferred off to her in lighters. On reaching the deck they were all examined for revolvers and other weapons that when found were immediately placed in the charge of the quarter-master to be returned on reaching New York.

There were a number of German emigrants and the steams.h.i.+p officers thought there might be some trouble. Besides the soldiers, there were eight hundred emigrants from different parts of Europe, mostly from Ireland and about fifty cabin pa.s.sengers. The voyage was very rough and occupied twenty-one days. Many a wild trick was played in that steerage.

Many a skirmish was nipped in the bud through the watchful care of the officers of the Virginia, which otherwise might have led to bloodshed.

The favorite amus.e.m.e.nt was cutting down hammocks. Dark forms might be seen on all fours making their way on the greasy and slippery deck in the direction of selected victims. The sharp blade of a knife would be drawn across the taut cord that supported the hammock. Then an uproar that awakened the entire steerage would take place. If the one who was cut down happened to be an Irishman, he would loudly challenge all the pa.s.sengers to come up and fight him, not caring whether they came in ones or hundreds. His invitation not being accepted he would generally pounce upon some unfortunate swinging near, and a scuffle would ensue in which the contestants were encouraged by hundreds of yells and cat-calls that would bring every steward on the s.h.i.+p into the steerage.

During the long voyage the soldiers suffered greatly from want of tobacco. The s.h.i.+p's doctor, a little Irishman from Dublin, often supplied them with the much needed article, and he had more influence over them than all the other officers on board. His quick wit one day prevented a fight that threatened to end most seriously. It was one of the few fine days that they experienced in the pa.s.sage and all the hatches were being removed for fresh air. A German emigrant drew a knife on one of the soldiers and made a vicious slash at him. Sides were immediately formed between the soldiers and emigrants and the fight commenced right under the main hatch. It was interrupted by loud cries from above:

"Here you are! Here is what you want. Stop that fighting!"

Looking up they perceived the little doctor seated above with a large supply of tobacco, which he was throwing among the contestants. The fight stopped immediately, all scrambling for the much coveted weed.

Before the supply was exhausted their good humor was restored and the fight forgotten.

On arriving in New York the volunteers scattered in every direction.

Paul and his friend the Count started for his home. Their odd uniforms and equipments attracted much curiosity and comment. At this time, Paul's mother and elder brother owned a store on Broadway near Thirteenth street, and when he entered in his French uniform, his mother did not know him. On recognizing him she almost fainted. She had been told nothing about his being in the French army and believed he was off on one of his usual voyages. Paul discarded his uniform and was once more attired as a citizen.

While in New York, the Count received a heavy remittance from Denmark.

He insisted that Paul must share in remembrance of the dark days when he had stood his friend, in Havre. He also consulted Paul as to what enterprise or adventure they should next embark. At this time expeditions were being secretly sent out from New York to aid the Cubans in their struggle for liberty. Paul thought this the most promising enterprise in which to engage and the Count readily acquiesced. They secured the address of an agent in the lower part of the city with whom they had a consultation and it was agreed that they should leave on the next expedition under General Jordan; but the expedition never sailed. The schooner was captured off Sandy Hook. They returned in company with a lot of others as violators of the neutrality law and spent two days in the Tombs. While there they were recipients of generous supplies of pies and other delicacies and beautiful flowers from fair Cuban sympathizers, and looked upon their discharge as a misfortune. After this the Count requested Paul to go to California with him, but the latter refused as he had decided to take another trip to the West Indies and pursue his former occupation of diving. He had sent letters to his old friend Captain Balbo with whom he often corresponded, and impressed the Count so with the description of the life they should lead among the sunny islands that he consented to join in the enterprise. They commenced negotiations for the purchase of the submarine armour and necessary appliances and only waited to hear from Captain Balbo before purchasing them. A letter from Na.s.sau at last arrived informing Paul of the death of his old friend which caused him sincere regret and of course changed their plans. While still hesitating about what to do, a letter was received by the Count requesting him to return immediately to Denmark. It was so urgent and of such importance that he sailed by the next steamer.

CHAPTER VI.

After the Count's departure Paul joined a submarine company in New York and pursued the occupation of diver for over six months. He was wonderfully successful and when he resigned he had the largest salary of any diver in their employ. The cause of his resignation was the reports he had had heard about the diamond fields in South Africa. He determined to cast his fortune with the diamond hunters that were going from different parts of the world to the promised "Eldorado,"

Having secured a supply of implements and stores that he considered necessary, he took pa.s.sage on the tall rigged s.h.i.+p Albatross, commanded by a friend of his. The Albatross was bound for China by way of Cape Town, and the captain promised to land him there. They had a long, pleasant voyage, during which Paul spent his time shooting at sharks over the side and trolling for fish. One day in the vicinity of the equator his hook was snapped by a dolphin, which he succeeded in bringing to the deck. It was laid on the shady-side of the galley and the sailors watched with great, curiosity the innumerable tints which radiated from its body. This transition in color was considered by the on-lookers as a visible evidence of the pain which it suffered.

Picking up an ax Paul quickly dispatched it. In pa.s.sing the equator the usual tom-foolery of receiving Neptune and baptizing those who had never crossed the line before, was enjoyed with one slight exception.

The imitation of the G.o.d Neptune when coming out of the fore chains over the bow, missed his footing and fell into the sea. Fortunately for him the s.h.i.+p was becalmed at the time. With the aid of a line and a boat hook which one of his mates fastened firmly to his collar, he was drawn aboard. His appearance was certainly far from G.o.d-like. Paul often enjoyed the conversation of sun old sailor named Joe Clark. He was a misanthropist at the unjust inequality that existed in the conditions of life, and often sung a verse of his own composition which gave him intense satisfaction, as he chanted it while sewing sails or making sennet. It consisted of a few lines, the import of which was, that no matter how rich or gorgeous the outer apparel might be, all alike have to eat, drink and die. He was a typical tar and proved a source of continual amus.e.m.e.nt to Paul. He had sailed a long time with the captain of the Albatross on different s.h.i.+ps, and the captain told Paul that he never made a voyage but that he did not express his determination that it would be the last one; and no matter what occupation he could get ash.o.r.e, either street cleaning or farming he would take it in preference to going to sea again. After three days of sh.o.r.e life old Joe was tired of it and always headed for some outward bound s.h.i.+p. Once when Paul and Joe were leaning over the bulwarks and gazing out on the gla.s.s-like surface of the equatorial waters in which they were then sailing, old Joe reflectively exclaimed: