“Mr. Adams is but recently come from America,” the doctor whispers. “He takes Mr. Dean’s place as a member of our commission.”
Madame Houdetot talks with Mrs. Adams; and because of her bad English and the other’s bad French they get on badly.
“Mr. Lee sends his compliments,” observes Mr. Adams, loftily, to Doctor Franklin, “and regrets that he cannot come. He heard, I understand, that Captain Paul Jones is to be here, and does not care to meet him.”
“No?” responds the doctor, evincing scanty2 concern at the failure of Mr. Lee to come. “Now I do not wonder! I hear that Captain Jones thrashed Mr. Lee’s secretary in a tavern3 at Nantes, and our proud Mr. Lee, I suppose, resents it.”
“Thrashed him!” exclaims Mr. Adams, in high tones; “Captain Jones seized a stick and beat him like a dog, applying to him the while such epithets4 as ‘liar!’ and ‘spy.’ Mr. Lee’s secretary has left France through fear of him.”
The portly doctor lifts his hands at this; but underneath5 his deprecatory horror, hides a complacency, a satisfaction, as though the violence of Captain Jones will not leave him utterly6 unstrung.
“He fights everybody,” says the good doctor, resignedly; “on land as well as on sea. Nor can I teach him the difference between his own personal enemies, and the enemies of his country.”
“He seems a bit unruly,” observes the pompous7 Mr. Adams; “a bit unruly, does this Captain Jones of yours. I’m told he sold the Drake, and what other ships were captured on his recent cruise, in the most high-handed, masterful way.”
“What else was he to do? When a road becomes impassable, what is your course? You push down a panel of fence and go cross-lots. Captain Jones had two hundred prisoners to feed, besides his own brave crew of one hundred and eighteen. We had no money to give him. Were they to starve? I’m not surprised that he sold the ships.”
“I’m surprised that the Frenchmen bought them,” returns Mr. Adams. “Captain Jones could give no title.”
Doctor Franklin’s keen eyes twinkle.
“He could give possession, Mr. Adams. And let me tell you that in France, as everywhere else, possession is nine parts of the law.”
Madame Brillon draws Mr. Adams aside, while Doctor Franklin welcomes the beautiful royal girl—the Duchess de Chartres; to whom he later presents Mr. Adams and Mrs. Adams. Madame Houdetot leaves Mrs. Adams with the girl-Duchess and talks aside with Doctor Franklin.
“I did not know,” she whispers, with an eye on the girlish Duchess, “that you received calls from royalty8.”
“The Duchess de Chartres has been with her great relative, the king, upon the business of Captain Jones. She comes to meet the captain, whom we every moment expect.”
“She is in love with him!—madly in love with him!” says Madame Houdetot. “All the world knows it.”
The doctor, who at seventy-two is a distinguished9 gallant10, smiles sympathetically.
“Did I not once tell you that Captain Jones, the invincible11 among men, is the irresistible12 among women!”
“Something of the sort, I think. But you have heard of the duchess and your irresistible, invincible one, had you not?”
“My dear madam, I am a diplomat,” replies the doctor, slyly. “And it is an infraction13 of the laws of diplomacy14 to tell what you hear.”
“They have been very tender at the duchess’s summer house near Brest.”
“And the husband—the Duke de Chartres!”
“A most excellent gentleman! A most admirable husband of most unimpeachable15 domestic manners! Believe me, I cannot laud16 him too highly! Every husband in Prance17 should copy him! He honors his wife, and—stays aboard his ship, the Saint Esprit.” After a pause the gossipy Madame Houdetot continues: “No doubt the duke considers his wife’s rank. Is the great-granddaughter of the Grande Louis to be held within those narrow lines that confine the feet of other women?”
“Who is this Mr. Adams?” asks Madame Brillon, coming up. “Is he a great man?”
Doctor Franklin glances across where the austere18 Mr. Adams is stiffly posing, with a final thought of impressing the sparkling Duchess de Chartres.
“Rather he is a big man,” replies the philosopher. “Like some houses, his foundations cover a deal of ground; but then he is only one story high. If you could raise Mr. Adams another story, he would be a great man.”
The good doctor goes over, and becomes polite to Mrs. Adams; for the enlightenment of that lady of reserve and dignity, he expands on France and the French character. Suddenly the door is thrown open, and all unannounced a queer figure rushes in. She is clad in rumpled19 muslin and soiled lutestring. Her hair is frizzed, her face painted, her cap awry20, and she is fair and fat and of middle years. This remarkable21 apparition22 embraces Doctor Franklin, kisses him resoundingly, first on the left cheek then on the right, crying:
“My flame!—my love!—my Franklin!”
The seasoned doctor receives this caressing23 broadside steadily24, while the desolated25 Mrs. Adams sits round-eyed and stony26.
“It is the eccentric Madame Helvetius,” explains Madame Brillon in a low tone to Mrs. Adams. “They call her the ‘Rich Widow of Passy.’ She and the good doctor are dearest friends.”
“Eccentric!” Mrs. Adams perceives as much, and says so.
Doctor Franklin returns to Mrs. Adams, whom he suspects of being hungry for an explanation, while the buoyant Madame Helvetius, as one sure of her impregnable position, wanders confidently about the room.
“You should become acquainted with Madame Helvetius,” submits the doctor pleasantly. “Wise, generous, afire for our cause—you would dote on her.”
Mrs. Adams icily fears not.
“Believe me; you would!” insists the doctor. “True! her manners are of her people and her region. They are not those of Puritan New England.”
Mrs. Adams interrupts to say that she has never before heard so much said in favor of Puritan New England.
“And yet, my dear Mrs. Adams,” goes on the good doctor, as one determined27 to conquer for Madame Helvetius the other’s favorable opinion, “you would do wrong to apply a New England judgment28 to our friend. Her exuberance29 is of the surface.” Then, quizzically: “A mere30 manner, I assure you, and counts for no more than should what she is doing now.”
Mrs. Adams lifts her severe gaze at this to Madame Helvetius. That amiable31 French woman is in rapt and closest converse32 with Mr. Adams, hand on his shoulder, her widowed lips to his ear. Mr. Adams is standing33 as one frozen, casting ever and anon a furtive34 glance, like an alarmed sheep, at Mrs. Adams. For an arctic moment, Mrs. Adams is held by the terrors of that spectacle; then she moves to her husband’s rescue.
Madame Helvetius comes presently to Doctor Franklin.
“What an iceberg35!” she remarks, with a toss of the frizzed head towards Mr. Adams. “Does he ever thaw36!” Then, as her glance takes in Mrs. Adams: “Poor man! He might be August, missing her. It is she who congeals37 him.”
And now he, for whom they wait, is announced—Captain Paul Jones. He has about him everything of the salon38 and nothing of the sea. His amiable yet polished good breeding wins on Mrs. Adams, and even the repellant wintry Mr. Adams is rendered urbane39. Captain Paul Jones becomes the instant centre of the little assemblage. And yet, even while he gives his words to the others, his glances rove softly to the girl-Duchess, who stands apart, as might one who for a space—only for a space—permits room to others. The girl-Duchess is polite; she grants him what time is required to offer his greetings all around. Then, in the most open, obvious way, as though none might criticise40 or gainsay41 her conduct, she draws him into a secluded42 corner. They make a rare study, these two; he deferential43 yet dominant44, she proud but yielding.
“Did you see the king?” he asks.
“See him? Am I not, too, a Bourbon?” This comes off with fire.
“Surely! Of course you saw him!” responds Captain Paul Jones, recalling his manner to one of easy matter-of-fact. “Your royal highness will pardon my inquiry45.”
The girl-Duchess objects petulantly46 to the “Royal Highness.”
“From you I do not like it,” she says. “From you”—and here comes a flood of softness, while her black eyes shine like strange jewels—“from you, as you know, my friend, I would have only those titles that, arm-encircled, heart to heart, a man gives to the one woman of his sou’s hope.”
Her voice sinks at the close, while her eyes leave his for the floor. His presence is like a gale47, and she bends before him as the willow48 bends before the strong wind. Meanwhile, as instructive to Mr. Adams, the loud Doctor is saying:
“No, sir; you must have a wig49. No one sees the king without a wig.”
“We talked an hour—the king and I,” goes on the girl-Duchess, recovering herself. “I read him your letter; he was vastly interested. Then I told him how the Ranger50 had been called to America. Also I drew him pictures of what you had done; and how bravely you had fought, not only your enemies, but his enemies and the enemies of France. And, oh!”—here again the black eyes take on that perilous51 softness—“I can be eloquent52 when I talk of you!”
Captain Paul Jones looks tender things, as though he also might be eloquent, let him but pick subject and audience. Altogether there is much to support the gossip-loving Madame Houdetot, in what she has said concerning that summer house at Brest. The voice of the good Doctor again takes precedence.
“Until then, it had been an axiom of naval53 Europe that no one on even terms, guns and men and ship, could whip the British on the ocean.”
The Doctor and Mr. Adams are discussing the Ranger and the Drake, a topic that has been rocking France.
“Yes,” goes on the girl-Duchess, with a further dulcet54 flash of those eyes, fed of fire and romance, “you are to have a ship. Here is the king’s order to his Minister of Marine—the shuffler55 De Sartine. Now there shall be no more shuffling56.” She gives Captain Paul Jones the orders. “The ship is the Duras, lying at l’Orient.”
“The Duras!” exclaims Captain Paul Jones. “An ex-Indiaman!—a good ship, too; she mounts forty guns.” Then, as his gaze rests on Doctor Franklin, laying down diplomatic law and fact to Mr. Adams, who listens with a preposterously57 conceited58 cock to his head: “What say you, my friend—my best, my dearest friend! Let us re-name the Duras for the good Doctor. Shall we not call it the Bon Homme Richard?”
The girl-Duchess looks her acquiescence59 as she would have looked it to any proposal from so near and sweet and dear a quarter. Thus the Bon Homme Richard is born, and the Duras disappears. The Doctor, unconscious of the honor done him, is saying to Madame Helvetius, whose fat arm is thrown across his philosophic60 shoulder:
“With pleasure, madam! It is arranged; I shall dine at your house to-morrow.”
The girl-Duchess and Captain Paul Jones hear nothing of these prandial arrangements for the morrow. They are again conversing61; and, for all they talk constantly, they say more with their eyes than with their lips.
“Lastly,” and here the words of the girl-Duchess grow distinct, “your ship, they tell me, will need refitting. That will take money, my friend; and so I hand you this letter to my banker, Gourlade, instructing him to put ten thousand louis to your credit.”
Captain Paul Jones puts the letter of credit aside.
“You do not understand!” he says. “De Chaumont has——”
“You must take it!” interrupts the girl-Duchess, her eyes beginning to swim. “You shall not put to sea, and risk your life, and the ship not half prepared!”
“I shall more easily risk my life a thousand times, than permit you to give me money.”
As Captain Paul Jones says this, a resentful red is burning on his brow. Doctor Franklin breaks in from over the way, with:
“You should not too much listen to Mr. Lee, sir. I tell you that the French merchants have offered to send Captain Jones to sea as admiral of an entire fleet of privateers, and he refused. Have my word, sir; the last thing he thinks on is money.”
The girl-Duchess is gazing reproachfully at Captain Paul Jones. At last she speaks slowly and with a kind of sadness:
“I do not give you money—do not offer it. What! money and—you! Never!” Then proudly: “I give my money to the Cause.” After this high note is struck, the flash dies down; the black eyes again go wavering to the floor, while the voice retreats to the old soft whisper. “It is my heart —only my heart that I give to you.”
The strident, unmollified tones of Mr. Adams get possession of the field. He is condemning62 the French press.
“They declare, sir,” he is saying, “that I am not the celebrated63 Mr. Adams; that I am a cipher64, a fanatic65 and a bigot.”
Doctor Franklin laughs. “What harm is there in the French papers, sir?” he returns. “Give them no heed66, sir, give them no heed!”
Madame Brillon makes preparations to depart; Madame Houdetot, Mrs. Adams and the rest adopt her example. And still the girl-Duchess holds Captain Paul Jones to herself:
“I am to have one evening—one before you go?” she pleads; and her tones are a woman’s tones and deeply wistful; and are not in any respect the tones of a Bourbon.
“One evening? You shall have every evening—ay! and every day.”
“Remember!” and as she makes ready to go the girl-Duchess takes firmer command of her manner and her voice; “remember! You have promised to lay an English frigate67 at my feet.”
“That I shall do; or lay my bones away in the Atlantic!”
The girl-Duchess shivers at this picture, and as though for reassurance68 steals her slim hand into his.
“Not that!” she pleads. His strong brown fingers close courageously69 on the slender ones. “I cannot bear the thought! In victory or defeat, come back!” Then, sighing rather than saying: “Come back to me—my untitled knight70 of the sea!”
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1
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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scanty
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| adj.缺乏的，仅有的，节省的，狭小的，不够的 | |
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tavern
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| n.小旅馆，客栈；小酒店 | |
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epithets
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| n.（表示性质、特征等的）词语( epithet的名词复数 ) | |
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underneath
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| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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pompous
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| adj.傲慢的，自大的；夸大的；豪华的 | |
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royalty
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| n.皇家，皇族 | |
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distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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gallant
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| adj.英勇的，豪侠的；(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
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invincible
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| adj.不可征服的，难以制服的 | |
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irresistible
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| adj.非常诱人的，无法拒绝的，无法抗拒的 | |
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infraction
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| n.违反；违法 | |
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diplomacy
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| n.外交；外交手腕，交际手腕 | |
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unimpeachable
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| adj.无可指责的；adv.无可怀疑地 | |
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laud
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| n.颂歌；v.赞美 | |
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prance
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| v.（马）腾跃，(人)神气活现地走 | |
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austere
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| adj.艰苦的；朴素的，朴实无华的；严峻的 | |
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rumpled
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| v.弄皱，使凌乱( rumple的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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awry
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| adj.扭曲的，错的 | |
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remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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apparition
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| n.幽灵，神奇的现象 | |
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caressing
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| 爱抚的，表现爱情的，亲切的 | |
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24
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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desolated
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| adj.荒凉的，荒废的 | |
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stony
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| adj.石头的，多石头的，冷酷的，无情的 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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exuberance
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| n.丰富；繁荣 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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amiable
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| adj.和蔼可亲的，友善的，亲切的 | |
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converse
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| vi.谈话，谈天，闲聊；adv.相反的，相反 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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furtive
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| adj.鬼鬼崇崇的，偷偷摸摸的 | |
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iceberg
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| n.冰山，流冰，冷冰冰的人 | |
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thaw
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| v.（使）融化，（使）变得友善；n.融化，缓和 | |
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congeals
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| v.使凝结，冻结( congeal的第三人称单数 )；（指血）凝结 | |
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38
salon
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| n.[法]沙龙；客厅；营业性的高级服务室 | |
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urbane
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| adj.温文尔雅的，懂礼的 | |
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criticise
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| v.批评，评论；非难 | |
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gainsay
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| v.否认，反驳 | |
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42
secluded
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| adj.与世隔绝的；隐退的；偏僻的v.使隔开，使隐退( seclude的过去式和过去分词) | |
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deferential
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| adj. 敬意的，恭敬的 | |
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dominant
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| adj.支配的，统治的；占优势的；显性的；n.主因，要素，主要的人(或物)；显性基因 | |
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inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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petulantly
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gale
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| n.大风，强风，一阵闹声（尤指笑声等） | |
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willow
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| n.柳树 | |
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wig
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| n.假发 | |
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ranger
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| n.国家公园管理员，护林员；骑兵巡逻队员 | |
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51
perilous
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| adj.危险的，冒险的 | |
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52
eloquent
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| adj.雄辩的，口才流利的；明白显示出的 | |
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53
naval
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| adj.海军的，军舰的，船的 | |
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54
dulcet
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| adj.悦耳的 | |
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shuffler
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| n.曳步而行者； 洗牌者； 轮到洗牌的人； 做事漫不经心者 | |
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56
shuffling
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| adj. 慢慢移动的, 滑移的 动词shuffle的现在分词形式 | |
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57
preposterously
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| adv.反常地；荒谬地；荒谬可笑地；不合理地 | |
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conceited
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| adj.自负的，骄傲自满的 | |
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59
acquiescence
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| n.默许；顺从 | |
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philosophic
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| adj.哲学的，贤明的 | |
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61
conversing
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| v.交谈，谈话( converse的现在分词 ) | |
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condemning
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| v.（通常因道义上的原因而）谴责( condemn的现在分词 )；宣判；宣布…不能使用；迫使…陷于不幸的境地 | |
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celebrated
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| adj.有名的，声誉卓著的 | |
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cipher
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| n.零；无影响力的人；密码 | |
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fanatic
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| n.狂热者，入迷者；adj.狂热入迷的 | |
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66
heed
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| v.注意，留意；n.注意，留心 | |
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67
frigate
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| n.护航舰，大型驱逐舰 | |
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68
reassurance
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| n.使放心，使消除疑虑 | |
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69
courageously
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| ad.勇敢地，无畏地 | |
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70
knight
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| n.骑士，武士；爵士 | |
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