Dale now accompanied the British captain politely to the gangway, where not even a plank was necessary to step on board the Bon Homme Richard. As the young lieutenant glanced up and saw Paul Jones waiting to receive his distinguished prisoners, he saw a red stream had trickled down the side of the commodore’s head, and one of his epaulets was soaked with blood.
“My captain, you are wounded!” cried Dale.
“It is but a trifle,” quickly replied Paul Jones. Captain Pearson at that moment stepped upon the Bon Homme Richard’s deck. He silently unbuckled his sword and handed it to Paul Jones, who received it with one hand, and immediately returned it with the other, saying:
“I return it to you, sir, because you have bravely used it.”
The other British officers and men were then passed rapidly aboard the Bon Homme Richard. The Americans, as if they had only then realized the magnitude of their victory, suddenly stopped work at the pumps, at fighting the fire, and at the usual preparations for taking possession of a ship, and, as one man, they gave three thundering cheers. Paul Jones, taking off his cap, listened to this heroic music with ineffable thoughts crowding upon his mind. The moon was now at the full, and blazed upon the dark bosom of the water with solemn grandeur. Afar off rose the white cliffs off England, while nearer, but still far, were the black hulls and shadowy spars of the Alliance, the gallant Pallas, and the conquered Countess of Scarborough. The air was yet full of the smell of burned powder and smoldering wood. Across the still and blue-black sea they could see the lights of Flamborough Head and Scarborough Castle like star points in the sky.
Paul Jones was roused from the strange mood of triumph, and of sadness too, by a frightful crash which resounded through both ships.
The tottering mainmast of the Serapis gave one mighty lurch, and then fell over the side, striking with a sound like thunder. A deep and terrible silence followed for a moment, and even the exultant cheering of the Americans, which had not quite ceased, was stilled. There was something overwhelming in the sight of the brave and lovely Serapis, that only a few hours before had sailed proudly and defiantly in her beauty and freedom, now beaten, dismasted, and her colors struck. But this one short moment of solemnity was followed by another burst of cheers, and all the fierce commotion of a victorious ship.
CHAPTER XI.
The first thing to be done on board the Bon Homme Richard was to attempt to check the fire. The ceilings had caught, and were burning slowly but determinedly. The fire having got within a few inches of the powder magazine, Paul Jones ordered all the powder brought up on deck. There were more than a hundred prisoners on the Bon Homme Richard before the fight, and the men taken from the Serapis brought the number up to over five hundred. Those who were not disabled were put to work at the pumps, where they toiled with the desperate energy of men struggling for their lives. Paul Jones himself escorted Captain Pearson to the cabin, saying:
“I beg that you will make yourself as comfortable as circumstances will admit. You will have the consolation of knowing that no man ever made a better defense of his ship.”