The American commander’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction as they took in all the fine qualities of the young sailor.
“You are a seaman, then?” he said to Dale.
“Yes, sir. My last berth was master’s mate aboard the Lexington.” Dale stood stiffly erect and saluted as he spoke.
“I’ll ship you at the same rating,” said Jones. “I wish I could get more Americans to man my vessel.”
“That should be very easy now, captain, dear,” said Longsword, eagerly. “That is if what I’ve just heard is true.”
“And what is that?”
“A lot of more than a hundred exchanged prisoners have just arrived at Nantes.”
“Mr. Lunt,” and the captain turned to an officer who had accompanied him, “we want those men for the Richard, and must have them.”
“We will have them, sir, if it is possible,” said Lunt, promptly. “I’ll send messengers to Nantes at once.”
During the conversation that followed Lunt’s departure, Ethan had an opportunity to examine Paul Jones carefully. Deep lines of care were in his face—lines that had not been there before, and a sprinkling of silver also showed in his hair. And little wonder. Since returning from his voyage upon the Ranger, he had encountered nothing but heart-breaking delays, rebuffs and disappointments.