Part 72

"Good-bye and good luck!" cried the kind-hearted servant as he closed the private gate which led to the waterside. And, with a wave of the hand, the fleeing American was soon hastening to the winding river, over which he must cross in order to get on to Plymouth.

Luck was still with him. A butcher who was ferrying some beeves by water, took him in his boat, and, as night fell, the keen-witted privateersman crept through the back door of the old clergyman's house at Plymouth--from which he had started. For the time being, he was safe.

Strange to relate, the two friends of the fishing-smack adventure here joined him once more, for they, also, had run away from the crew of the privateer, and--as they sat around the supper-table--the town-crier went by the house, bawling in harsh and discordant tones:

"Five guineas reward for the capture of Joshua Barney; a rebel deserter from Mill Prison! Five guineas reward for this deserter! Five guineas! Five guineas!"

But Barney stuffed his napkin into his mouth in order to stop his laughter.

Three days later a clean-shaven, bright-cheeked, young dandy stepped into a post chaise, at midnight, and drove off to Exeter. At Plymouth gate the conveyance was stopped; a lantern was thrust into the black interior; and the keen eyes of the guard scanned the visages of those within:

"He's not here," growled the watchman, lowering the light. "Drive on!"

Thus Joshua Barney rolled on to home and freedom, while the stout-bodied soldier little guessed that the artful privateersman had slipped through his fingers like water through a sieve.

Two months later--in the autumn of 1781--Joshua Barney: fighter, privateer, liar and fugitive, walked down the quiet streets of Beverly, Massachusetts, and a little fish-monger's son whispered to his companions,

"Say, Boys! That feller is a Jim Dandy. He's been through more'n we'll ever see. Say! He's a regular Scorcher!"

* * * * *

Many months later--when the Revolutionary War had ended--the good ship General Washington lay in Plymouth Harbor on the south coast of England. Her commander--Captain Joshua Barney--gazed contentedly at the Stars and Stripes as they flew jauntily from the mizzen-mast, and then walked to the rail, as a group of British officers came over the side. But there was one among these guests who was not an officer. He was bent, old, weather-beaten; and his dress showed him to be a tiller and worker of the soil. It was the aged and faithful gardener of Lord Mount-Edgecumbe.

"You remember me?" cried the genial American, grasping the honest servant by the hand.

The gardener's eyes were alight with pleasure.

"You are the feller who jumped over the hedge--many years ago--when the sea-dogs were hot upon your trail."

Joshua Barney chuckled.

"The same," said he. "And here is a purse of gold to reward my kind and worthy helpmeet."

So saying, he placed a heavy, chamois bag of glittering eagles into the trembling hands of the ancient retainer.

THE DERELICT

Unmoored, unmanned, unheeded on the deep-- Tossed by the restless billow and the breeze, It drifts o'er sultry leagues of tropic seas. Where long Pacific surges swell and sweep, When pale-faced stars their silent watches keep, From their far rhythmic spheres, the Pleiades, In calm beatitude and tranquil ease, Smile sweetly down upon its cradled sleep. Erewhile, with anchor housed and sails unfurled, We saw the stout ship breast the open main, To round the stormy Cape, and span the World, In search of ventures which betoken gain. To-day, somewhere, on some far sea we know Her battered hulk is heaving to and fro.

ROBERT SURCOUF

THE "SEA HOUND" FROM ST. MALO

(1773-1827)

"If you would be known never to have done anything, never do it."--EMERSON.

ROBERT SURCOUF

THE "SEA HOUND" FROM ST. MALO

(1773-1827)

Parlez-vous Français? Yes, Monsieur, I can speak like a native,--sure. Then, take off your cap to the lilies of France, Throw it up high, and hasten the dance. For "Bobbie" Surcouf has just come to town, Tenez! He's worthy of wearing a crown.