Paul continued: “The Earl, Madame, being absent, and he being the sole object of my call, you cannot labor under the least apprehension, when I now inform you, that I have the honor of being an officer in the American Navy, who, having stopped at this isle to secure the person of the Earl of Selkirk as a hostage for the American cause, am, by your assurances, turned away from that intent; pleased, even in disappointment, since that disappointment has served to prolong my interview with the noble lady before me, as well as to leave her domestic tranquillity unimpaired.” “Can you really speak true?” said the lady in undismayed wonderment. “Madame, through your window you will catch a little peep of the American colonial ship-of-war, Ranger, which I have the honor to command. With my best respects to your lord, and sincere regrets at not finding him at home, permit me to salute your ladyship’s hand and withdraw.” But feigning not to notice this Parisian proposition, and artfully entrenching her hand, without seeming to do so, the lady, in a conciliatory tone, begged her visitor to partake of some refreshment ere he departed, at the same time thanking him for his great civility. But declining these hospitalities, Paul bowed thrice and quitted the room. In the hall he encountered Israel, standing all agape before a Highland target of steel, with a claymore and foil crossed on top. “Looks like a pewter platter and knife and fork, Captain Paul.” “So they do, my lion; but come, curse it, the old cock has flown; fine hen, though, left in the nest; no use; we must away empty-handed.” “Why, ain’t Mr. Selkirk in?” demanded Israel in roguish concern. “Mr. Selkirk? Alexander Selkirk, you mean. No, lad, he’s not on the Isle of St. Mary’s; he’s away off, a hermit, on the Isle of Juan Fernandez—the more’s the pity; come.” In the porch they encountered the two officers. Paul briefly informed them of the circumstances, saying, nothing remained but to depart forthwith. “With nothing at all for our pains?” murmured the two officers. “What, pray, would you have?” “Some pillage, to be sure—plate.” “Shame. I thought we were three gentlemen.” “So are the English officers in America; but they help themselves to plate whenever they can get it from the private houses of the enemy.” “Come, now, don’t be slanderous,” said Paul; “these officers you speak of are but one or two out of twenty, mere burglars and light-fingered gentry, using the king’s livery but as a disguise to their nefarious trade. The rest are men of honor.” “Captain Paul Jones,” responded the two, “we have not come on this expedition in much expectation of regular pay; but we _did_ rely upon honorable plunder.” “Honorable plunder! That’s something new.”