Hastily his crew were carrying out some bales and boxes from the forward hold of the prize, and the captain standing upon the bulwarks directing them.
The crowd was watching all this as if it were part of a play arranged for their special benefit.
Mr. Ross elbowed his way quietly through the crowd and soon was close to the vessel’s side. Conyngham looked down and saw him.
“The jig is up,” he said, speaking so that Ross could hear him. “They’re going to hand us over. I thought as much from the looks of things. They expected me to come back here—it was all prepared, but I was a little ahead of time.”
“Well, what are you up to now?” asked Mr. Ross. “Why all this unloading?”
“Merely for the establishment of international good feeling,” Conyngham returned. “You’ll see in a minute.”
From his post of vantage in the bulwarks of the vessel he turned, and, taking off his hat, addressed the crowd that up to this minute, as we have said, had been nothing but amused spectators.
“Citizens of Dunkirk, people of France,” he said, “help yourselves. Here are bales of fine English cloth and English cutlery. Sure, they’re things ornamental and things beautiful. Help yourselves; they’re yours for the taking, and the gift of the United Colonies of America and Gustavus Conyngham, captain in the navy.”
It was enough. With something that sounded like a cheer mixed with laughter, the crowd rushed upon the bales and boxes. Many climbed unhindered over the vessel’s sides and dived down the hatchway. Conyngham leaped to the wharf.
“Now,” said he, “let the Englishmen try to land and take us. The authorities were going to let them board us while we lay at anchor unprotected. I know that, for it was a French officer who went out to the English sloop. Who can believe a Frenchman anyhow? I have told my crew to scatter, and each man for himself. This is a pretty ending to our project, by the piper! isn’t it?” he added bitterly.