Ross and Hodge left in a few minutes, and Silas Deane and the good doctor were alone.
“I wonder would it be possible for either of us to see de Vergennes to-morrow?” asked Franklin, as he placed in a large portfolio the papers that he had taken from the package.
“He apparently wishes to avoid an interview with me,” replied Silas Deane, “for I have been unable to get at him for some time. But this is bad news about Conyngham. If he has been thrown into a French prison, it must still be at the instigation of the British authorities, and they will demand that he be handed over to them. They will call his doings by ugly names, I warrant you. There will be a flood of abuse and invective.”
“And I have a good stop-gap for some of it,” was Franklin’s return. “I do not think that they will proceed to extremes. To-morrow I will see Maurepas, possibly Beaumarchais, and if needs be, the Queen.”
Deane was forced to smile despite himself, for he well knew the rumors of the good doctor’s success with the fair sex; even the Queen had succumbed to his magnetic wit and personality, so it was but a bald statement of facts, and no boasting.
For some reason Franklin did not then show to Mr. Deane the paper which proved that Conyngham held a commission in the new navy of the United Colonies. Had he done so a great deal that subsequently happened might have been averted. For half an hour longer the two commissioners spoke of other matters. Affairs looked very glum indeed for the struggling little nation across the water, and no news had been received for some time. The failure of this last project boded ill for future attempts, yet the mere fact that it had at first succeeded and that the rattlesnake flag had been flown in the Channel proved to Europe that the new nation was alive.
CHAPTER XI
THE REVENGE
The position that Captain Conyngham and his crew found themselves in was peculiar. But few of his men had actually been placed under arrest. The Frenchmen who had shipped in the Surprise, though well known to the authorities, had been unmolested, nor could the imprisonment of the few others be considered in the light of a great hardship. The men occupied roomy quarters facing on the main courtyard, were allowed to purchase extra supplies, and in squads of five or six they were permitted to exercise in the open air of the court. Captain Conyngham was in a different wing of the jail, but was treated more as a guest than as a prisoner; still, until almost a week had gone by he had found it impossible to communicate with any friends in the outside world. One day, to his surprise, however, he heard a cheery voice calling to him from the doorway of his large cell, for, being in a prison, every room was supposed to hold prisoners. Looking up, Conyngham saw his friend Allan standing laughing at him cheerfully. He had a long apron hanging from his shoulders and a baker’s basket on his arm.