The Captain from Connecticut

Chapter XIV

As the moon had set there was half an hour or so of utter darkness. Peabody was still on the quarter-deck with his hand on the rail, ignorant of his fatigue and want of sleep. In this dark interval there might be a chance of escape, but Peabody hardly dallied with the idea for a moment. The French harbor guard was by now thoroughly aroused, and so, presumably, were the British. He had no doubt whatever that the big guns in the batteries were loaded and trained to converge on the exit, and that accursed cutter would send up her rockets. The Delaware would be badly knocked about; further­more, if she violated harbor rules, the British might at­tack her at once and plead that in justification. It would not do.

But on the other hand the port captain's regulation distinctly laid it down that movement was permitted be­tween sunrise and sunset — indeed, the French au­thorities could hardly say otherwise. That started an in­teresting train of possibilities. And the land breeze blew strongest at dawn. Peabody turned to the midshipman of the anchor watch with a series of orders, at the same time settling himself into a delightful calculation of what was the exact moment of sunrise on the morning of May 31 in Latitude 14⁰ 20' North. At three bells his orders began to bear fruit. The hands came up from be­low, while the dark sky above began to take on the faintest tinge of lilac, and the mountains of the island began to assume a sharper definition against it. The crew kept out of sight below the bulwark as they moved to their places under the direction of the petty officers; they were like the starters before a race — as indeed they were. Hubbard came up on deck and stood beside his captain. His eyes were a little red with fatigue, although he had had a full four hours' sleep in the last forty-eight.

"D'you think we'll do it, sir?" he asked.

"We'll know in ten minutes," said Peabody.

There was enough light now for the British ships to be visible, and Peabody and Hubbard turned with one accord to look at them. They showed no sign of any activity — but then neither did the Delaware. Peabody looked at his watch, put it back into his fob, and but­toned the flap with his usual care.

"Very good, Mr. Hubbard," he said.

The last syllable had not left his lips before Hubbard was pealing on his whistle and the ship broke into life. The cable roared out, the jibs shot up, the ship shied away from the wind. A second later courses and topsails and topgallants and royals were spread, and the Delaware jerked herself forward as the land breeze swelled the canvas. It was only a matter of moments before she was tearing through the blue water, under the brightening sky, at a full nine knots.

"Hurry up with those stuns'ls, there!" roared Hub­bard. "Are you asleep?"

On both sides, from royals to main- and foreyard, the studding sails were being set, almost doubling the canvas which the Delaware had spread. The resultant increase in speed was perceptible — the Delaware leaped to the additional impulse.

"Look there, sir!" said Hubbard suddenly, but Peabody had seen some time ago what Hubbard was point­ing to.

The three British ships had all sail set as well, had slipped their cables, and were racing for the open sea, on courses which would converge upon the Delaware's. If even one of them crossed the line limiting territorial waters before the Delaware did, Peabody would have to turn back and stay twenty-four hours, while they could cruise outside and wait for him at their leisure.

"Clear for action and run out the guns, Mr. Hubbard, if you please," said Peabody.

With courses converging in this fashion, it would not be at all surprising if guns went off without orders, and if they should, Peabody had no intention of being caught napping. Should the British violate French neutrality he would give as good as he got. Ahead of them lay the Tigresse, periodically spilling the wind from her main­sail as she awaited their coming — she must have got under way long before dawn. And that accursed cutter was out, too, to see the sport. The Calypso, her bows foaming white against the blue of the water, was draw­ing closer and closer. She, too, had her guns run out and her men at quarters; Peabody could see the red coats of the Marines drawn up on the poop. Her bows were a trifle ahead of the Delaware's, but the Delaware was gaining on her perceptibly. Peabody recognized Davenant; he had leaped upon a carronade slide and was bellowing through his speaking trumpet at the Delaware.

"I lead!" he yelled. "Peabody, you'll have to go back."

Peabody snatched his own speaking trumpet.

"You be damned!" he shouted. "We're overtaking you."

They were closing on the Tigresse now. She, too, had her popguns run out as she lay right across the bows of the charging frigates, and there were present all the ingredients for a violent explosion. There was a puff of smoke as she fired a gun.

"That was across our bows, sir," said Hubbard.

"Across his bows, too," said Peabody, with a jerk of his thumb at the Calypso. She showed no sign of heaving to in obedience to the command, and Peabody would not give way before she did. He could see Davenant looking forward at the Tigresse with something of anxiety in his attitude. Something rumbled through the air over their heads and raised a fountain of water a cable's length from their port bow; they swung round in time to see a white puff of smoke from Fort Bourbon. It was an argument nothing could gainsay.

"Bring her to the wind, Mr. Hubbard," said Peabody.

As the Delaware came round, he saw the Calypso's yards swing too. It might have been a well-executed drill, the way the two ships rounded to, exactly simul­taneously. A moment later the Bulldog and the Racer did the same, and all four ships lay motionless in the bay while the Tigresse bore up for them. They saw a boat drop from her side, as she hove to, and pull towards the Delaware; directly afterwards Captain Dupont was being piped on board by the hurriedly assembled boat­swain's mates.

"His Excellency," said Dupont to Peabody after the formal greetings had been exchanged, "would esteem it an honor if you would visit him in the Tigresse."

"His Excellency?" said Peabody.

The last time he had seen the Marquis was at the ball the night before. It seemed probable that no one had had much sleep last night.

"It would be a favor as well as an honor," said Dupont, gravely, creasing his rounded belly in another bow.

"Oh, I'll come," said Peabody.

It was just the same as yesterday; it seemed as if noth­ing had happened during the last twenty-four hours as Peabody took off his hat once more to the Marquis, on the deck of the Tigresse, and then bowed to Davenant. The Marquis was elegantly dressed in a buff-colored coat with a pink-and-blue fancy waistcoat beneath it, and showed no sign of a disturbed night; Peabody, conscious of the disordered full dress which he still wore, and of his unshaven face, was glad to see that Davenant, too, was red-eyed and untidy, the gray sprouts of his beard showing on his cheeks.

"It is most pleasant," said the Marquis, "to have the honor of repeated visits from you two gentlemen like this."

"You don't find it pleasant at all," said Peabody. He was in no mood for airy and long-winded nothings.

"Hospitality would forbid my saying that, even if it were true," answered the Marquis. "But your suggestion naturally encourages me to speak more freely. I must confess that I did not succeed in getting a wink of sleep last night owing to my anxiety lest the guests of France, for whose reception I am responsible to His Most Christian Majesty, should unconsciously violate any of the accepted conventions."

"Look here, Your Excellency," said Davenant, "what we both want to know is why you stopped us this morning. We weren't breaking any of your rules."

"I had reason to fear that one or other of you might do so shortly," answered the Marquis. "It was a very close race which you were sailing."

"Well, what of it? There's nothing wrong in that. One or the other of us, as you say, would have got out first."

"And would the other one have stopped then?" The Marquis's expression was severe as he looked at them. "You would have crossed the line almost together, and in five seconds you would have been fighting. How would the neutrality of France have appeared then, to have allowed such a thing to happen? It is my duty, gentle­men, to use every means in my power to prevent such an occurrence."

There was much solid truth and common sense in what the Marquis was saying; Peabody stole a glance at Davenant and saw that the British captain was im­pressed by the argument — naturally, the fact that the argument was backed up by thirty-two-pounders gave it increased cogency.

"I must give you notice that whenever I see there is any possibility," went on the Marquis, "of your two ships leaving the bay together, I shall stop you, without hesitation."

Davenant rubbed his bristling chin.

"I'm damned if I can see," he said, "why we ever gave Martinique back to you at all."

The Marquis ignored the implied rudeness, which he could well do in his present position of authority.

"It has caused us all the loss of a night's sleep," he said.

Meanwhile Peabody had been digesting the facts of the situation, with results which were surprising him.

"But how are we ever going to get out of here?" he asked.

"That's what I want to know, by jingo," said Davenant.

The glance which Davenant and Peabody exchanged showed that both of them saw the difficulties of the position. British and Americans would watch each other like hawks, and at the first sign of one making ready to leave the other would rush to forestall him. During day­light, at least, neither side would have a moment's leisure or relief from tension.

"I cannot see any answer to that question myself," said the Marquis. "I must apologize for it."

"But dammit, sir," said Davenant, "you can't keep us here indefinitely."

"I appreciate the pleasure of your company, Sir Hubert," said the Marquis, "but I assure you that I am making no effort to detain you. Please do not think me inhospitable when I point out that your presence here occasions me a considerable personal inconvenience. I should of course be delighted to oblige you two gentle­men in any way possible, if I might act as intermediary in any arguments you might care to enter into."

Once more Peabody and Davenant exchanged glances.

"You might perhaps spin a coin for it," suggested the Marquis.

The struggle apparent on the faces of both the cap­tains at the suggestion made first the Marquis and then them themselves smile. It was tempting at first — an even chance of success or failure. But Davenant thought of the damage the Delaware might do if the spin of the coin were unlucky for him; and Peabody thought of the fact that the Delaware was the only United States ship of war not closely blockaded in an American port.

"I'm damned if I do," said Davenant.

"I wouldn't have agreed if you'd wanted to," said Peabody.

The Marquis sighed, as a very gentle reminder that his patience was being tried.

"You gentlemen can't agree upon anything?" he said.

"Why the hell should we?" said Davenant.

"Then I shall have to keep the Tigresse out here all day long and every day, and the battery guns manned and pointed," said the Marquis. "Really, gentlemen, you have very little consideration for your host."

"That's nothing compared with what we'll be going through," said Davenant irritably.

"Well, perhaps," said the Marquis, tentatively, "there is another course possible."

"And what is that, sir?" asked Peabody, his curiosity roused.

"I was going to suggest, gentlemen, that perhaps you might agree on a short armistice. You might for instance give each other your promise not to make any attempt to leave Fort-de-France for some definite period — a week, might I say? That would give you an opportunity to water your ships and rest your men, and give me a chance to get some sleep. You would benefit and I would benefit and Martinique would benefit."

"By Jove!" exclaimed Davenant. To him it was obviously a new idea, and Peabody, watching him closely, saw that he was tempted. He was tempted himself. There was a good deal of the Delaware's standing rigging which needed resetting-up, and he might perhaps heave her over and do a good job of work on the troublesome shot-hole forward. But then Davenant shook his head.

"But what would happen at the end of the week?" he asked.

"At the end of the week you would be no worse off than now," said the Marquis. "You might even be better off. You might even have received orders from your Admiral which would take some of the responsibility off your shoulders."

That made, the suggestion more tempting still to Davenant.

"There's something in what you say, Excellency," he said. In the tone of his voice Peabody could hear the grudging underlying admission — unconvinced, of course — that for a Frenchman the Marquis was show­ing extraordinary intelligence.

"I'll promise if you will," said Peabody, cutting the Gordian knot. He was weary of fencing, and his matter-of-fact mind saw the essentials clearly enough despite the unusualness of it all.

"But any moment I might get other orders," said Davenant in a sudden wave of caution.

"That can be allowed for," said the Marquis. "An armistice can always be denounced on giving notice."

"That's so," admitted Davenant.

"Then perhaps you two gentlemen will promise that for a week neither of you will make any attempt to leave the harbor. This promise will be subject to the condition that it can be terminated on — shall we say — twelve hours' notice on either side?"

The two captains nodded.

"Then let me hear you promise," said the Marquis.

Davenant's expression revealed a fresh struggle within him as he looked at Peabody. Davenant knew the worth of his own promise, he knew he would never do anything that would bring dishonor to the British Navy; but for a moment he knew doubt as to Peabody's promise. He found it hard to believe that a new nation and an upstart Navy could be trusted. It was quite a plunge that he was taking; but at length he took it.

"I promise," he said.

"So do I," said Peabody.

"That's good," said the Marquis; and then, abruptly changing the distasteful subject: "I hope we shall be seeing a good deal of you two gentlemen at my house during this coming week — I am speaking not only on my own account but for my sister and daughter."