In front of the fire were two older men, each in the uniform of a general officer, one of thirty-five or six years of age, the other perhaps ten years older. The younger of the two, a full-faced, intelligent, active, commanding sort of man, whose appearance indicated confidence in himself, and the light of whose alert blue eyes told of dashing brilliancy in action and prompt decision in perilous moments, which made him one of those who succeed, would have been more noticed had not his personality been so overshadowed by that of the officer who was speaking to him. The latter was possessed of a figure so tall that it dwarfed every other in the room: he was massively moulded, but well proportioned, with enormous hands and feet, and long, powerful limbs, which indicated great physical force, and having withal an erect and noble carriage, easy and graceful in appearance, which would have immediately attracted attention anywhere, even if his face had not been more striking than his figure. He had a most noble head, well proportioned, and set upon a beautiful neck, with the brow broad and high, the nose large and strong and slightly aquiline; his large mouth, even in repose, was set in a firm, tense, straight line, with the lips so tightly closed from the pressure of the massive jaws as to present an appearance almost painful, the expression of it bespeaking indomitable resolution and unbending determination; his eyes were a grayish blue, steel-colored in fact, set wide apart, and deep in their sockets under heavy eyebrows. He wore his plentiful chestnut hair brushed back from his forehead, and tied with a black ribbon in a queue without powder, as was the custom in the army at this juncture,—a fashion of necessity, by the way; and his ruddy face was burned by sun and wind and exposure, and slightly, though not unpleasantly, marked with the smallpox.
There was in his whole aspect evidence of such strength and force and power, such human passion kept in control by relentless will, such attributes of command, that none looked upon him without awe; and the idlest jester, the lowest and most insubordinate soldier, subsided into silence before that noble personality, realizing the ineffable dignity of the man. The grandeur of that cause which perhaps even he scarcely realized while he sustained it, looked out from his solemn eyes and was seen in the gravity of his bearing. His was the battle of the people of the future, and God had marked him deeply for His own. And yet it was a human man, too, and none of the immortal gods standing there. On occasion his laugh rang as loudly, or his heart beat as quickly as that of the most careless boy among his soldiers. He was fond of the good things of life too,—loving good wine, fair women, a well-told story, a good jest, pleasant society, and delighting in struggle and contest as well. He preserved habitually the just balance of his strong nature by the exercise of an unusual self-control, and he rarely allowed himself to step beyond that mean of true propriety, so well called the happy, except at long intervals through a violent outbreak of his passionate temper, rendered more terrible and blasting from its very infrequency. And this was the man upon whom was laid the burden of the war of the Revolution, and to whom, under God, were due the mighty results of that epoch-making contest. Seldom, if ever, do we see men of such rare qualities that when they leave their appointed places no other can be found to fill them; but if such a one ever did live, this was he.
CHAPTER XXI
The Boatswain Tells the Story
One or two other men were writing at a table, and another stalwart officer of rank was sitting by the fire reading. None of the four men coming into the room had seen the general before, except Talbot. As the door opened, his excellency glanced up inquiringly, and, recognizing the first figure, stepped forward quickly, extending his hand, all the other officers rising and drawing near at the same time.
"What, Talbot! I trust you bring good news, sir?"
"I do, sir," said the young officer, saluting.
"The transport?" said the general, in great anxiety.
"Captured, sir."
"Her lading?"