“You promised,” she goes on, “to lay an English frigate at my feet.”
Commodore Paul Jones is relieved. More, he is pleased, since the Duchess gives him a chance to be dramatic. He sends for his servant, who brings him a slim morocco case.
“Your royal highness,” he says, unbuckling the morocco case; “I shall be better than my word. I lay at your feet, not a frigate truly, but a forty-four gun ship of two decks. Here is the token of it—the sword of as brave a sailor as ever sailed.”
Commodore Paul Jones presents the Duchess with the vanquished sword of Captain Pearson, which he has taken from the morocco case. The Duchess, who has not foreseen this return to her sally, is deeply stirred. She receives the sword, and presses the gold scabbard to her lips.
“It is dear to me as the sword of a conquered Englishman!” she cries, turning with swimming eyes upon the company. “It is doubly dear when it comes from my Achilles of the ocean!”
There is a buzz of admiration about the tables. Aimee herself is in a dream of happiness; for she has alarms but no jealousies, and the glory of her lover is her glory.
Before the guests break up for departure, Doctor Franklin and Commodore Paul Jones have a word together.
“I have asked for it,” says the Doctor, “and de Sartine leads me to think that, as soon as the ship is refitted, the king will give you the Serapis.”
Commodore Paul Jones brightens to a sparkle.
“I could do wonders with so stout a ship,” he replies.