“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 Marine 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 miserable 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 fiery, faithful Cadwalader at his elbow. Mad Anthony Wayne, acting for him, meets Arthur Lee informally. The latter does not like the outlook.
“Who is he?” exclaims Arthur Lee, inventing a defensive sneer. “Either the son of a Scotch 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 bristle, “that I shall regard a refusal to fight, based on the ground you state, as a personal affront 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 stark directness of Mad Anthony.