Dr. Franklin had just returned from court. He had been saying many pretty things to fair ladies, and had made his usual wise and witty remarks to ministers and to courtiers, and now he seated himself in his large arm-chair near the table, placed his big horn spectacles upon his nose, and drew toward him a pile of correspondence and some paper. Dipping his big quill into the inkstand, he paused a moment before he began to write. On his face suddenly came an expression of great pain. He pushed back his chair, and lifting his leg carefully kicked off the heavy buckled shoe and rested his foot on a cushion that lay on the floor. The good doctor was suffering a twinge from his old enemy, the gout. At last, when he was more comfortable, a smile of amusement lit up his features and he began scratching away quickly with the squeaky quill pen. It was not a letter of state importance or secret instructions that he was working on, for every now and then his smile widened or changed to one of quizzical amusement. He had abandoned himself to the whim of the moment, and when he had gone on for an hour or so he paused and began to read what he had inscribed aloud. It was an imaginary conversation between himself and his present bodily visitor and tormentor, whom he referred to politely as “Madam Gout.” He was defending himself against the accusations of the lady in question as he read.
“I take—eh!—oh!—as much exercise—eh!” (here a twinge of pain seizes him) “as I can, Madam Gout. You know my sedentary state, and on that account it would seem, Madam Gout, as if you might spare me a little, seeing it is not altogether my own fault.”
“Gout: Not a jot! Your rhetoric and your politeness are thrown away; your apology avails nothing. If your situation in life is a sedentary one, your amusements, your recreation, at least, should be active. You ought to walk or ride; or, if the weather prevents that, play at billiards. But——”
He had got as far as this in his reading when a servant knocked on the door and softly entered.
“A gentleman named Mr. Hodge to see you, sir,” he said. “He says it is of great importance.”
Dr. Franklin’s smile faded and he pushed the paper from him.
“Bid him enter at once,” he said, and an instant later Mr. Hodge followed the servant into the room.
“Ah, good friend!” exclaimed Franklin. “You will pardon my rising, for my position explains itself; but I see by your face that you have something of import. Out with it and no beating about the bush. But I pray you to tell me no bad news unless that can’t be helped. Come now, what is it?”
In a few words Mr. Hodge related the story of Conyngham’s adventures and the return with the packet. When he had finished, Franklin arose and, despite the fact that one foot was shoeless, limped heavily two or three times around the room. Then he at last replied:
“Your news, Mr. Hodge, is both good and bad. I might have known that Conyngham would have done something of this sort, but just at present affairs at court are somewhat puzzling. I can trust Turgot and Maurepas, but the Count de Vergennes, Minister of Foreign Affairs, is at times too deep for me. Just now he seems to be listening too much to Lord Stormont. I would that we could get some good news from America about the doings of the army. But what you say about the foreign mails demands attention. They must go to de Vergennes this very moment. Do you think that you are the first to bring the news of all this to Paris?”
“That I can not say, sir,” returned Hodge. “There was a chaise and four an hour or so ahead of me on the road. I obtained word of its having preceded me at several stopping-places.”
“I am afraid that it is one of Stormont’s people,” said Franklin slowly; “they have kept him well informed; but if so, I shall soon hear of it.”
There came a ring at the garden bell just at this instant, for it was near candle-time and the porter had closed the gate for the evening.
“There!” exclaimed the doctor. “That may be news now.” And almost immediately the servant brought in the name of Mr. Silas Deane, Dr. Franklin’s fellow commissioner to the court.
Following close upon the announcement Deane entered. He looked surprised at seeing Hodge, and after greeting him spoke quickly.
“So you are already in possession of what I was going to tell you!” he exclaimed. “Lord Stormont has been told of our Captain Conyngham’s arrival at Dunkirk and has called on the Count de Vergennes. Dubourge informed me so but a half hour since. Conyngham must be communicated with and warned. Dubourge says that his lordship was in no pleasant humor, and let drop some direful threats.”
Franklin seated himself in the big chair and placed his foot again on the cushion.
“Gentlemen,” said he, “we must do some leaping; I mean you must—for my leaping days are over; but ‘look before you leap’ is a good old maxim, and let us do some looking. The position is just this: Had this thing happened three weeks later, or had it followed upon receipt of good news from America, it would cause me but little concern; but coming now the situation is most grave. Captain Conyngham with his prizes must leave Dunkirk and make his way to Spain. Through our friend Hortalez & Co. I have made arrangements for the disposal of our property there. It is not safe for him to remain in France. Are you too tired, Mr. Hodge,” he concluded, “to post back to Dunkirk at once? Our American friends there must be informed.”
Mr. Hodge sighed. He had had but little rest on the journey, and the prospect of another long one was not alluring; but there was nothing for it, and he acquiesced with good grace.
The doctor was beginning to give him some verbal instructions when the bell at the gate rang again, and following close upon the servant’s heels the younger Ross entered the room. He was travel-stained and his clothes looked dusty and rumpled. Apparently he was surprised to find the other gentlemen present, and stood somewhat embarrassed at the door, but upon being presented to Mr. Deane, whom he had not met, his embarrassment changed to excitement quickly, and he began to speak hurriedly.
“Conyngham has been taken,” he said. “His vessel and the prizes have been seized!”
“By the English?” exclaimed Franklin, almost jumping this time to his feet, despite the remark about his leaping days.
“No, sir; he surrendered himself and his sword to the keeping of the French Government. He and some of his men are in the French military prison.”
“Did the English obtain possession of his papers?” anxiously inquired Franklin.
“Not all of them, sir, for he sent you this, and bade me get it to your hands with all possible despatch.” He handed to Dr. Franklin as he spoke the big white packet that Conyngham had slipped into his brother’s hand.
Franklin opened it nervously and glanced at the contents. Immediately he appeared greatly relieved.
“Gentlemen,” he said, “you must both retire, and I suggest that you get much-needed rest and repair here to-morrow morning. In the meantime Mr. Deane and I will talk matters over. Will you breakfast with me here in the garden?”
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.