With The Flag In The Channel

“I will be on hand,” returned Conyngham, and the two men parted.

At six o’clock that evening, in the little front room of the Chanticlear Tavern, there were five men seated about the table. The conversation, that had first been of home affairs and the discussion of the latest news from the army – the battles of Trenton and Princeton and Washington’s doings – soon turned to matters nearer at hand. Mr. Hodge, a strong-featured, red-faced man of a traditional John Bull appearance, sat between the two Ross brothers. After the waiter had left and they were all alone he began to talk, and his audience resolved themselves into the most eager listeners.

Conyngham had told his story of the capture of the prize crew, and the recital had at once placed him as one who was worthy of every confidence, and before whom everything could be said openly.

“You’d have laughed,” went on Mr. Hodge, continuing the story of his trip to Paris, “to have heard the good doctor describe his arrival in Paris. As yet he has not been received openly at court, but that will all come in due time. Nevertheless, the number of fine names and titles and high personages whom he has met would make quite a bill of lading. You see Lord Stormont, the English ambassador, has his suspicions. He would be a dolt if he hadn’t. And the Count de Vergennes, the king’s Prime Minister, has his also, but the latter’s are the harder to guess. I don’t exactly understand the Frenchman,” continued Mr. Hodge. “He’s a bit too deep for me, and whether or not he is blowing hot and cold to save time, or whether he is really anxious in the end to be of service to us, is more than I can answer for. My own idea of it is that he has but one idea in his head, and that is France, and that he would see our country swamped and ruined if he could further France’s interest in the slightest degree. He realizes, no doubt, that in England’s troubles and difficulties lie France’s opportunities, and that the more she is weakened and distressed, the easier it will be for France when the war comes; for, mark my words, the temper of the French people can not long be restrained, and sooner or later England and this country will be at each other’s throats. But, nevertheless, gentlemen, it is well worth our time to keep a wary eye on M. le Comte de Vergennes, and mind his doings carefully. But I have digressed. I was speaking of Franklin – he told me that Lord Stormont had objected to his coming to Paris at all, and said that ‘if this arch-rebel reaches the city I will away home with me, bag and baggage.’ ‘All right,’ says de Vergennes, ‘anything to please your excellency! We will despatch a messenger to stop him.’ And so a messenger was sent to meet the diligence by which ‘Goodman Richard’ was coming into Paris, but the messenger took the wrong road and never met the doctor, and the first thing you know Lord Stormont hears that the ‘arch-traitor’ has arrived. ‘Heavens, mercy me!’ exclaims de Vergennes, when his lordship calls upon him. ‘How could it have happened? I will speak strongly to this fool of a messenger. I will admonish him.’ ‘But what are you going to do about it?’ insists Lord Stormont. ‘What can we do?’ returns Monsieur le Comte. ‘You can not expect us to be uncivil! Surely it is no one but an old gentleman who flies kites and writes almanacs, and we Frenchmen have a reputation for politeness to sustain. We can not ask him to leave without ceremony. It is not our way.’ So there he is,” continued Mr. Hodge, “hob-nobbing with lords and ladies and what not, and thinking great things in that great head of his; making arrangements with Beaumarchais, who is our friend with good interest now. Oh, such a man!” Mr. Hodge interrupted his long speech by throwing back his head and laughing heartily.

“Beaumarchais? Beaumarchais? I’ve heard the name,” interrupted Conyngham. “But who is he?”

“The most interesting and fantastic of creatures,” replied Mr. Hodge. “A man whose career sounds like the invention of the romancer. His real name is Caron, and he is but the son of a watchmaker, whose timepieces are celebrated. I believe that he himself was brought up to follow his father’s trade, but playing the harp attracted him more than adjusting springs and balance-wheels, and he became an instructor and harpist at the court. Being a man of parts besides of harps, and a natural born courtier, he soon made his way and became one of the petted favorites despite his lowly birth. A consummate Jack of all trades. He is the author of plays, two of which I have had the pleasure of seeing – ‘The Barber of Seville’ and ‘The Marriage of Figaro.’ The king and the queen trust him implicitly, and he has the ear of most of the noblemen, though some of them dislike him and fear his sharp wits.”

“I met him once,” interrupted Mr. Allan, “at Nantes – a quietly dressed, smooth-spoken, business-like fellow.”

“Then you don’t know him at court,” laughed Mr. Hodge, “for there he is an exquisite, and can flutter his laces and make his bow with the best of them. He has a hundred sides, and can change color like a chameleon.”

“He is a good friend of America and a hater of England,” remarked the elder Ross. “If he had his way, Lord Stormont would be packed off to London, bag and baggage, and there would be no more of this dissembling. He knows the temper of the people, and has his finger on the national pulse.”

“I wish that he had his fingers in the national purse,” laughed his brother, “for the good doctor is not overburdened with money.”

The entrance of the landlord here interrupted the conversation, but as soon as he disappeared Mr. Hodge, who had been doing a great deal of thinking, and had paid little attention to the steaming ragoût, followed him to the door and closed it firmly. Then, coming back to the table, he leaned over his chair and in a low but eager voice addressed the company.

“We’re all Americans here,” he said, “and Captain Conyngham’s recital of his own mission and adventures proves his discretion, and so, gentlemen – a secret.” He paused and his eyes swept around the table. “The money will be forthcoming, and if I make no mistake there will be plenty of it.”

“Surely the Count de Vergennes, and Necker while he has charge of the purse-strings, will disgorge little,” said Mr. Allan dubiously.

“The Prime Minister is a deep one,” replied Mr. Hodge. “It pays to keep both eyes on him. He would use America as a cat’s-paw, I have no doubt; but nevertheless he sees in the success of our cause the way to stab England deeply. Beaumarchais, with the help of the rest, will prove a match for him.”

“But you are digressing,” remarked the younger Ross, who had spoken little up to this time. “How are we to get the arms and munitions?”

“We shall see,” answered Hodge, smiling wisely. “The French Government doesn’t wish to commit itself at present, and as a nation will offer us no direct or open aid, but there is nothing to prevent a private company or corporation from advancing money on its own responsibility, if it assumes the risk, and there lies the secret, to which you gentlemen, I know, will consider yourselves pledged from this minute. Have you heard of Hortalez et Cie. of Paris? It is a new name, and one as yet unknown in commercial circles, but mark me, some day history will record it, and we Americans shall have good cause not to forget it.”

“And who composes this new firm?” asked Mr. Ross.

“That,” replied Mr. Hodge, “is more than I can answer. But they say that Beaumarchais could tell all about it, and the shareholders have noble names. Even royalty has invested, and there is plenty of money behind the new name.”

“Be more outspoken,” suggested Mr. Allan. “Who is Hortalez?”

“Hortalez,” answered Mr. Hodge, “and this under pledge of secrecy, gentlemen, is none other than Beaumarchais himself, and Beaumarchais is the court.”

For an instant there was silence, and the five men looked at one another without saying a word. Then it was Conyngham who spoke.

“Mr. Hodge,” he said, “what you have told me opens the way at once to something that I intended to speak of before this company here at the table. In every port in France, and even in Holland, there are scores of American seamen lying idle because of the embargo that has been placed upon our shipping. They’re eager, every one of them, to strike a blow against the enemy. With money, and brains to direct its disposal, the matter would be easy. There is the Channel filled with British shipping before us. We are here on this side of the water. I have in my mind a long-fostered idea that is easy of accomplishment, and that would promise big returns if successfully set on foot.”

“Your idea, Captain Conyngham,” answered Mr. Hodge, “might not be hard to guess, and let me tell you that it has already been spoken of. By the way,” he added, “I start to-morrow morning for Paris. Will you not accompany me thither, for I think that Dr. Franklin may have something to say to you.”

Conyngham’s face flushed with excited pleasure, as he reached across the table and struck his palm into that of Mr. Hodge.

“I am with you,” he cried, “mind, soul, and body.”

As the party broke up to go they halted at the door. The elder Ross placed his hand on Conyngham’s shoulder.

“You are the man we have been looking for,” he said in a whisper, “the very man.”

“Hold, gentlemen,” whispered Mr. Hodge, softly, “what we have spoken of here this evening we will consider buried in the catacombs of our memory, and it would be better,” he suggested, “if we should meet Captain Conyngham elsewhere to be as strangers to him. Is it so understood?”

The rest nodded, and they passed out into the hallway, at the end of which the smiling landlord greeted them and bowed them out into the street.

CHAPTER V

COMMISSIONED

Dr. Franklin entered the little house from the garden at the back, mopping his wide forehead, for the day was hot. He advanced toward Mr. Hodge with his hand outstretched and greeted him warmly in his deep musical voice.

“Ah, friend Hodge,” he said, “back so soon? And you have brought some one with you, I see. From our side of the water?” he asked.

“Yes,” returned Mr. Hodge; “at least from the right side of the water. Allow me to present to you, sir, Captain Gustavus Conyngham, late commander of the Charming Peggy.”

“Of Philadelphia, owned by J. M. Nesbit and Company, was she not, and confiscated in Holland?” interjected Dr. Franklin, looking at Conyngham over the tops of his round spectacles.

“The same, sir,” replied the young captain, wondering at the doctor’s knowledge.

“I would that she had managed to get away with her cargo,” continued Dr. Franklin, “and I was distressed and sorrowed that I could not help you. But Holland, I fear, is under the thumb of Great Britain. I could pray again for the days of Van Tromp, but I fear me it is not to be.”

As he spoke the doctor motioned the others to be seated and placed himself at one side of a big table, upon which was a chess-board with the men placed upon it, as if they had been left in the midst of playing. As he continued speaking he moved them about from one space to another, as if his thoughts were divided between the subject of conversation and the game.

At first he asked a few questions about Philadelphia, and forestalled Mr. Hodge’s evident attempt to interrupt.

“Ah!” exclaimed the doctor at last, “I have it – it was the knight’s move and a very pretty problem!.. Now, Captain Conyngham,” he went on, “you were born in Ireland, but having married a wife in Philadelphia one might say that your better half is American.”

“And seeing that the other is American by adoption also,” returned Conyngham, “although I acknowledge my birthplace and my speech at times betrayeth me, I can claim to be whole American, and I have as little love for England as the best of you.”

“Good,” returned Dr. Franklin, shoving the chessmen off the board; “’tis the proper disposition. And now, Mr. Hodge, I presume you have told Captain Conyngham of the great difficulties with which we are surrounded. And by the way,” he added hurriedly, “you can do a favor for me if you’ll be so kind. I was to meet Mr. Deane at his lodgings at about this hour. Could you act as my emissary? We have need to call on our friends for small services. Will you go to him and inform him that I shall not be able to keep my appointment, but kindly ask him to return with you here, where you will find Captain Conyngham and myself awaiting you?”

Mr. Hodge, although a little perplexed at the request, acquiesced immediately, and in a minute or two Franklin and the young captain were alone. The latter waited for the doctor to begin, and he did so by asking a question.

“Are the English smaller vessels better built and faster than those made in France?” he asked.

“By all means,” Conyngham returned; “there is none that can equal the work of the British shipyards, except ourselves, and there I mean Americans,” he added.

“And the Dutchmen?”

“Good seagoing craft, but clumsy,” returned Conyngham.

“Do you think it would be possible, Captain Conyngham, to procure a fast-sailing English cutter or lugger on this side of the water?”

“It would be hard to do so without exciting suspicion.”

“In England you think it would be possible to procure such?”

“Without the least difficulty, in Dover,” Conyngham replied. “That would be my plan,” he added, “and if once we could get her, say to such a port as Dunkirk, I would find the men easily to man her.”

Dr. Franklin arose and began slowly pacing to and fro.

“What do you think would be the best plan to set about the purchase of such a craft?” he asked at last. “Do you think that you could accomplish it yourself?”

“It would be better for some one else to try,” Conyngham replied, “for I am known to many in the English ports. In fact, I might say without boasting that I am a good pilot in both channels. If she were secured by a man who might pass himself off easily as an English merchant it could be done without attracting suspicion, and she might be brought over with a French crew to Dunkirk.”

After more talk, in which Captain Conyngham detailed his plans as to armament and outfitting, he came to the subject which hitherto neither had touched upon.

“Of course, Dr. Franklin,” he said, “no one realizes more than I do the danger of such an enterprise, and mark you, sir, it does not appal me, yet I might state that if I were captured, not only I, but the men with me, should meet with short shrift at the hands of the British. We should have few opportunities, after such an event, to serve our country again.”

Franklin paused and smiled. “We shall attend to that,” he said, turning to a large cabinet and unlocking one of the ponderous doors. “And now I shall have to call upon your discretion. There are a great many things nowadays that we have to keep secret even from our friends, but I have here the very instrument that we need in our business.”

As he spoke he drew forth from a large portfolio a printed form and laid it on the table.

“This,” he said, turning it so that Conyngham could read it, “is a commission in the navy of the United Colonies. Thinking that just this sort of a contingency might arise, I armed myself with a few of these papers sent me in America. You see it is signed by John Hancock, as President of Congress, and is attested by William Thompson, at Baltimore, where Congress was in session. It is dated the 1st of March of this year. I have but to fill in your name and the name of your vessel, and you are a full-fledged captain in the navy of the United Colonies from the moment. Your name I know, but the craft as yet is unchristened. What shall we call her?”

Conyngham paused a moment.

“You have surprised me, sir,” he said, “and my wits for a moment were wool-gathering, but the name would be an easy matter.”

“And you have suggested it, Captain Conyngham,” returned Franklin, chuckling. “We will call her the Surprise.”

Quickly, as he spoke, he filled in the blank spaces and handed the paper across the table.

“Captain Conyngham,” he said, “I greet you. You will receive such orders as may come through our agents, but one thing I admonish you – be cautious. You are not to venture to attack a seventy-four nor even a sloop of war. There are plenty of small fry about worth the saving. Now,” he went on, “another thing of great importance. Except in case of dire necessity show this commission to no one, not even to Mr. Hodge or our most intimate friends. It is a secret for the nonce between you and myself. You will readily understand the reason that I ask it. It would not only embarrass me just at present, but might embarrass the French Government; and they’re a little bashful just now, so we must consider their feelings. Ah, here come Mr. Hodge and Mr. Deane,” he added, looking out of the window. “Come, we will go out into the garden and sit under the trees, where we can discuss the weather, the fashions, and the ladies, in the open air.”

After the introductions had been gone through, and Captain Conyngham had been presented to Mr. Silas Deane, a short, thick-set, easy-going-looking man of commercial aspect, not a word was said about plans or plot, and Franklin wandered from anecdote to anecdote, heading off any attempt to touch upon the subject that was uppermost in all their minds. But just as they were leaving he spoke a few words which disclosed the situation.

“Captain Conyngham,” he said, “has undertaken to execute a commission of great importance and danger, and so, while it may come under discussion at some length in the future, he will need now nothing but our good wishes, and we will drink his health.”

The toast was drunk and the gentlemen arose to take their departure.

“The captain will accompany you to Dunkirk on your return, Mr. Hodge,” said Dr. Franklin, as he bade farewell, “and Mr. Deane will instruct you as to your further procedure.”

Conyngham never forgot the parting pressure of the doctor’s hand.

CHAPTER VI

THE SURPRISE

There lay moored in the basin in the harbor of Dover two fast-sailing luggers that, despite the fact that they had been in the water but two years, had already earned great reputations for speed and seaworthiness, and to their merchant owners they had proved sources of pride and profit.

Mr. Robert Boltwood and his brother had been approached upon more than one occasion by persons desirous of purchasing either one of their two crack coasters. They were not surprised, therefore, when they received an offer made through a shipping firm, whose principal partners were Dutchmen, for one of the vessels named the Roebuck, but they were surprised when their terms were accepted, for they had placed what they considered almost a prohibitive price upon the Roebuck, which if anything was the faster of the two.

It was natural, perhaps, for them to wish to know for what purpose the Roebuck had been bought. All they could ascertain, however, was that a gentleman named Allan, claiming to come from London, and one Mr. Van der Beck, a Hollander, had bought her in partnership, and that she was to sail out of Dunkirk in the Channel trade.

Now it happened that in Dunkirk there were several indefatigable spies of the British Government, and in some way it had leaked out that a privateering expedition was on foot. There were so many idle American seamen in the port that it would have been a wonder if some such rumor had not been floated, and the story that started really need have had no connection with Conyngham’s cherished project. Suffice it, however, that this came to the ears of Messrs. Boltwood’s representative, who accordingly informed his firm, and this news reached them but a short time after they had completed the sale of the Roebuck. The terms of the sale had not included the delivery of the vessel across the Channel, but Mr. Allan and the fictitious Mr. Van der Beck had mistakenly supposed that there would be no difficulty in securing a crew, or at least enough men to sail her to her port of destination. To their surprise, however, they found that this was not the case. Sailors were hard to find, and it soon became evident, also, that the old owners, repenting of their bargain, were working against them. This and the fact that their suspicions had also been aroused, made the secret commissioners wary of appearing to be in a great hurry. So while the Roebuck remained at anchor they informed their friends in Dunkirk of the situation, and Conyngham resolved upon a bold plan. It was nothing more nor less than to sail with some eight or ten men in a large open yawl and bring out the Roebuck at night from her anchorage. It was agreed that Mr. Van der Beck (whom everybody will recognize as the elder Ross), who had lived in Holland and spoke the language like a born Dutchman, and Allen, should move themselves and their belongings on board the Roebuck, whose crew consisted of two French sailors, almost so decrepit from age as to be no longer on the active list. On a given night this short-handed crew were to slip their anchor and make out toward the harbor mouth where Conyngham and his crew of eight men would be taken on board, when they would sail at once for Dunkirk.

Those were the days when smuggling between the Continent and England was considered almost a legitimate venture, and despite the watchfulness of the English coast-guard vessels, from many small ports and coves smuggler pilots ran their contraband cargoes in and out. It was not difficult for Conyngham to secure the services of a French smuggler pilot, and in fact some of the men of the crew, Americans though they were, had been employed, at times, in the same risky business.

A big open yawl was procured without difficulty, and on a misty night she slipped out of Dunkirk harbor heading with a favoring easterly wind for the English coast. For a short time this held true and steady, but fortune after a few hours turned against them. Before daybreak the wind had increased to half a gale, and in the choppy sea the yawl had a bad time of it. It was only by good seamanship and constant bailing that she was kept afloat. The afternoon of the next day they found themselves about three leagues from the English coast, and the wind abating they laid their course for the white cliffs of Dover.

All apparently was going well, and they had passed several vessels without exciting suspicion, for the smallness of their craft was a great point in their favor, and she might have been taken for a coaster or fisherman hailing from any of the small villages that sent out their little fleets during the trawling season.

Late in the afternoon, while they were creeping southward along the coast, a king’s cutter suddenly appeared around a little headland not two miles away. The French pilot who was at the helm was undoubtedly responsible for what followed, for the sudden appearance of the cutter must have caused him to lose his head. Without a word of warning he threw the yawl up into the wind and headed her off shore, plainly in an endeavor to give the cutter a wider berth. The suspicious action had been seen by the Englishman, who at once altered his own course and turned off in pursuit.

Captain Conyngham at the time that the coast-guard was sighted had been resting asleep under a tarpaulin between the thwarts. The exclamations of the men on seeing the cutter’s tactics aroused him, and as soon as he had looked to leeward he saw that it was only a matter of time when the cutter would overhaul his little craft.

They were still so close into shore that they could see the white surf leaping and boiling against the rocks and at the base of the cliff. At one point he could make out a little break in the steep side, with some foliage near the top, and down at the bottom a short stretch of sandy beach.

A rocky ledge formed a barrier to the entrance of the little cove, and over it the water jumped and tossed angrily. Here and there, farther inshore, leaped sudden spurts of foam as the waves thundered on the sharp points of the hidden rocks. Yet one thing he noticed clearly even at the distance he was from shore – the water ran smoothly and evenly up to the narrow stretch of white beach, showing that within a few feet of shore it deepened again. His mind was made up in an instant.

The cutter was outpointing the yawl, and though at first to leeward was working up to the windward position. Conyngham gave a few quick orders as he grasped the tiller. The yawl swung about, and with loosened sheets caught the wind abaft the beam and tore away shoreward. The cutter came about also, taking a longer time at it, and, flying down just outside the edge of the breakers, made a bold attempt to head the yawl and turn her back before she could cross her bows.