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Page 62
"Well, pass 'em over a keg," said Paul, laughing, but modifying his
order by a sly whisper to Israel: "Oh, put up your price, it's a gift to
ye."
"But ball, captain; what's the use of powder without ball?" roared one
of the fellows from the boat's bow, as the keg was lowered in. "We want
ball."
"Bless my soul, you bawl loud enough as it is. Away with ye, with what
you have. Look to your keg, and hark ye, if ye catch that villain, Paul
Jones, give him no quarter."
"But, captain, here," shouted one of the boatmen, "there's a mistake.
This is a keg of pickles, not powder. Look," and poking into the
bung-hole, he dragged out a green cucumber dripping with brine. "Take
this back, and give us the powder."
"Pooh," said Paul, "the powder is at the bottom, pickled powder, best
way to keep it. Away with ye, now, and after that bloody embezzler, Paul
Jones."
This was Sunday. The ships held on. During the afternoon, a long tack
of the Richard brought her close towards the shores of Fife, near the
thriving little port of Kirkaldy.
"There's a great crowd on the beach. Captain Paul," said Israel, looking
through his glass. "There seems to be an old woman standing on a
fish-barrel there, a sort of selling things at auction to the people,
but I can't be certain yet."
"Let me see," said Paul, taking the glass as they came nigher. "Sure
enough, it's an old lady--an old quack-doctress, seems to me, in a black
gown, too. I must hail her."
Ordering the ship to be kept on towards the port, he shortened sail
within easy distance, so as to glide slowly by, and seizing the trumpet,
thus spoke:
"Old lady, ahoy! What are you talking about? What's your text?"
"The righteous shall rejoice when he seeth the vengeance. He shall wash
his feet in the blood of the wicked."
"Ah, what a lack of charity. Now hear mine:--God helpeth them that help
themselves, as Poor Richard says."
"Reprobate pirate, a gale shall yet come to drive thee in wrecks from
our waters."
"The strong wind of your hate fills my sails well. Adieu," waving his
bonnet--"tell us the rest at Leith."
Next morning the ships were almost within cannon-shot of the town. The
men to be landed were in the boats. Israel had the tiller of the
foremost one, waiting for his commander to enter, when just as Paul's
foot was on the gangway, a sudden squall struck all three ships, dashing
the boats against them, and causing indescribable confusion. The squall
ended in a violent gale. Getting his men on board with all dispatch,
Paul essayed his best to withstand the fury of the wind, but it blew
adversely, and with redoubled power. A ship at a distance went down
beneath it. The disappointed invader was obliged to turn before the
gale, and renounce his project.
To this hour, on the shores of the Firth of Forth, it is the popular
persuasion, that the Rev. Mr. Shirrer's (of Kirkaldy) powerful
intercession was the direct cause of the elemental repulse experienced
off the endangered harbor of Leith.
Through the ill qualities of Paul's associate captains: their timidity,
incapable of keeping pace with his daring; their jealousy, blind to his
superiority to rivalship; together with the general reduction of his
force, now reduced by desertion, from nine to three ships; and last of
all, the enmity of seas and winds; the invader, driven, not by a fleet,
but a gale, out of the Scottish water's, had the mortification in
prospect of terminating a cruise, so formidable in appearance at the
onset, without one added deed to sustain the reputation gained by former
exploits. Nevertheless, he was not disheartened. He sought to conciliate
fortune, not by despondency, but by resolution. And, as if won by his
confident bearing, that fickle power suddenly went over to him from the
ranks of the enemy--suddenly as plumed Marshal Ney to the stubborn
standard of Napoleon from Elba, marching regenerated on Paris. In a
word, luck--that's the word--shortly threw in Paul's way the great
action of his life: the most extraordinary of all naval engagements; the
unparalleled death-lock with the Serapis.
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