Summer runs away into autumn, and the brown tints1 of October show in the trees. The honeymoon2 has been one of secrecies3 and subterfuges4, and perhaps the tenderer and sweeter because sub rosa. Commodore Paul Jones tears himself now and again from Aimee’s arms to urge the business of the Serapis. He is seconded by Aimee, to whom his glory is as dear as his love.
Doctor Franklin tells the king that he should give Commodore Paul Jones the ship, and is referred to de Sartine. The oily minister slips away from the proposal, and the king sends Commodore Paul Jones a “Sword of Honor” and the title of “Chevalier.” The impatient sailor bites his lip, and gives the plaything sword to Aimee.
“I asked for a ship, not a sword,” says he. “As for ‘Chevalier,’ since I’m already a Commodore, it looks like promotion5 down-hill.”
“The king,” explains Doctor Franklin, “does not, I fear, forgive your refusal of his captain’s commission when you lay at the Texel.”
“And I,” he returns, “continue to regard that offer of a commission as a piece of royal impertinence.”
Commodore Paul Jones determines to bring the king to a decision. He walks in the royal gardens with his ally, Genet, and comes upon the king feeding his interminable squirrels. The king—for democracy is becoming a fashion—greets Commodore Paul Jones with outstretched hands.
“But do not tell me,” concludes the king, “that you come for a ship.”
“It is to ask for the Serapis, sire.”
The poor king rubs his head, his vague lip twitches6, while the unlocked jaw7 multiplies the feebleness of his weak face.
“Chevalier, I cannot,” he returns. In a tone of pathos8, he continues: “Congratulate yourself, my friend, that you are not a king. You would be compelled to have ministers, and they would make a slave of you—as they have of me.”
“It is over,” says Commodore Paul Jones, to Doctor Franklin. “There is no hope of the Serapis.”
“Take the Ariel, then, and return to Philadelphia,” replies the Doctor. “There is the America, seventy-four guns, building on the Portsmouth stocks. I’ve written the Marine9 Committee to give you that.”
Commodore Paul Jones holds Aimee close. He kisses her dear lips. “In the spring I shall return, my love,” he promises. “Three little months, and you are in my arms again.”
Aimee whispers something, and then buries her face in his breast. The blush she is trying to hide spreads and spreads until it covers the back of the fair neck, and the red of it is lost in the roots of the red-gold hair.
“Good!” he cries in a burst of joy, holding her closer. “Good! Now I shall have something to dream of and return to.”
It is a raw, flawy February day when Commodore Paul Jones lands in Philadelphia. Arthur Lee, with his poisonous mendacities, has preceded him. He is called before the Marine Committee, to reply to a list of questions, that in miserable10 effect amount to charges. Anger eating his heart like fire, he answers the questions, and is then voted a resolution of thanks and confidence.
Knowing no other way, he seeks a quarrel with Arthur Lee, the fiery11, faithful Cadwalader at his elbow. Mad Anthony Wayne, acting12 for him, meets Arthur Lee informally. The latter does not like the outlook.
“Who is he?” exclaims Arthur Lee, inventing a defensive13 sneer14. “Either the son of a Scotch15 peasant or worse, and a man who has changed his name. By what right does such a person demand satisfaction of a gentleman!”
“Permit me to suggest,” returns Mad Anthony, beginning to bristle16, “that I shall regard a refusal to fight, based on the ground you state, as a personal affront17 to myself. More; let me tell you, sir, that he who shall seek to bar Paul Jones from his plain rights, on an argument aimed at his gentility, will get nothing by his pains but the name of coward.”
“You think so!” responds Arthur Lee, his sneer somewhat in eclipse at the stark18 directness of Mad Anthony.
“I know so, sir. When you speak of Paul Jones, you speak of the conqueror19 of the Drake and the Serapis. Also, when you deal with me, you deal with one who is the equal of any Lee of your family, sir.”
Mad Anthony blows through his warlike nose ferociously20, and Arthur Lee is silent. Meanwhile, the excellent Cadwalader, ever painstaking21 in matters of bloodshed, prepares a challenge, which he intends shall be a model for succeeding ages, when studying the literature of the duello.
It is at this pinch that the peace-loving Morris, helpless and a bit desperate, brings the weight of General Washington to bear upon the combative23 one. The “Father of his Country” succeeds where Mr. Morris has failed, and silences all talk of a duel22. As a reward for that gentleman’s eleventh-hour docility24, he prevails upon Congress to give Commodore Paul Jones command of the half-built America, in accord with the request of Doctor Franklin, already in its dilatory25 hands.
Commodore Paul Jones goes to Portsmouth to oversee26 the launching and the equipment of his new seventy-four. Disappointment dogs him; for Lord Cornwallis surrenders, and Congress, in a fit of foolish generosity27, presents the America to France, as a slight expression of its thanks for the part she played in the capture of that English nobleman. Commodore Paul Jones sees his just-completed seventy-four, over which he has toiled28 like a poet over his verse, and wherein he was to presently sail away to conquer fresh honors for himself and his Aimee, hoist29 the French flag and receive a French captain on its quarter-deck. Steadying himself under the blow, with a grim philosophy which he has begun to cultivate, he goes back to Philadelphia. He finds letters from France awaiting him; one is from his Aimee, written in a tremulous, wavering hand. It must have borne wonderful news, for in his reply he says:
“Present my compliments to your sister. Tell her to exert her tenderest care toward you and her sweet little godson. Also cover him with kisses from me.”
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1
tints
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| 色彩( tint的名词复数 )； 带白的颜色； （淡色）染发剂； 痕迹 | |
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2
honeymoon
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| n.蜜月（假期）；vi.度蜜月 | |
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secrecies
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| 保密（secrecy的复数形式） | |
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subterfuges
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| n.（用说谎或欺骗以逃脱责备、困难等的）花招，遁词( subterfuge的名词复数 ) | |
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promotion
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| n.提升，晋级；促销，宣传 | |
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6
twitches
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| n.（使）抽动， （使）颤动， （使）抽搐( twitch的名词复数 ) | |
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7
jaw
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| n.颚，颌，说教，流言蜚语；v.喋喋不休，教训 | |
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pathos
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| n.哀婉，悲怆 | |
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marine
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| adj.海的；海生的；航海的；海事的；n.水兵 | |
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miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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fiery
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| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
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12
acting
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| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
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13
defensive
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| adj.防御的；防卫的；防守的 | |
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14
sneer
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| v.轻蔑；嘲笑；n.嘲笑，讥讽的言语 | |
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15
scotch
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| n.伤口，刻痕；苏格兰威士忌酒；v.粉碎，消灭，阻止；adj.苏格兰(人)的 | |
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16
bristle
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| v.（毛发）直立，气势汹汹，发怒；n.硬毛发 | |
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affront
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| n./v.侮辱，触怒 | |
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stark
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| adj.荒凉的；严酷的；完全的；adv.完全地 | |
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conqueror
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| n.征服者，胜利者 | |
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ferociously
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| 野蛮地，残忍地 | |
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painstaking
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| adj.苦干的；艰苦的，费力的，刻苦的 | |
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22
duel
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| n./v.决斗；(双方的)斗争 | |
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combative
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| adj.好战的；好斗的 | |
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24
docility
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| n.容易教，易驾驶，驯服 | |
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dilatory
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| adj.迟缓的，不慌不忙的 | |
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26
oversee
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| vt.监督，管理 | |
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27
generosity
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| n.大度，慷慨，慷慨的行为 | |
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28
toiled
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| 长时间或辛苦地工作( toil的过去式和过去分词 )； 艰难缓慢地移动，跋涉 | |
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hoist
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| n.升高，起重机，推动；v.升起，升高，举起 | |
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