“Our good friend, Mr. Morris,” interjects Lafayette, “has been so generous as to refer to me. I could not have said a word without; since what you discuss is private and personal to yourselves as Americans, and of a character that forbids me, a Frenchman and an alien even though a friend, voicing my views. However, since Mr. Morris has so complimented me as to make his appeal in my name, I must--in all respect and friendship for Captain Jones, whom I admire--unite my voice with his. The more readily since I can take it upon myself to promise Captain Jones that if he will cross to France, with a letter I shall give him to my king, a fighting ship of frigate strength shall be his within the month.” As he concludes, Lafayette, a blush reddening his cheek--for he is only a boy--extends two hands to Captain Paul Jones as though, fearful of having said too much, he would mutely apologize. Captain Paul Jones seizes the hands with a warmth equal to the other’s; and the incident, capping as it does the fatherly opposition of Mr. Morris, puts an end to that beautiful plan, so full of dire promise for Captain Saltonstall, which in their mutual belligerencies Captain Paul Jones and the fire-fed Cadwalader have formulated. “Say that you will go to France, my friend!” urges the impulsive young Frenchman; “say that you will go! I will exhaust Auvergne, and all of France besides, but you shall have the promised ship.” At this, General Washington interferes. “Forbear, my dear Marquis!” says he. “Captain Jones shall go to France. But he shall go with an American crew, in an American ship, flying the American flag.” Then, to Captain Paul Jones: “Do me the honor, Captain, to hold yourself in readiness to obey any summons I may send. Believe me, I shall count myself as one without influence, if you do not hear from me within the week.” Let us glance ahead two years for the final word of Captain Saltonstall. Captain Paul Jones, with his hard-won prize, the crippled _Serapis_, creeps into the Texel, and the earliest story wherewith the Dutch regale him is how Captain Saltonstall, weak, forceless, incompetent, has surrendered the new, thirty-two-gun frigate, _Warren_, to the English in Penobscot Bay. Captain Paul Jones hears the disgraceful news with set and angry face. “I have just learned the miserable fate of the _Warren_,” he writes to Mr. Morris; “and hearing it I reproach myself. If I had obeyed the dictates of my sense of duty on a Philadelphia day you will recall, instead of yielding to the persuasions of the peacemakers, our flag might still be flying on the _Warren!_” CHAPTER XI--THE GOOD SHIP RANGER Four days of listless waiting go by, and Captain Paul Jones again finds himself and Mr. Morris closeted with General Washington.