“We will have them, sir, if it is possible,” said Lunt, promptly. “I’ll send messengers to Nantes at once.” During the conversation that followed Lunt’s departure, Ethan had an opportunity to examine Paul Jones carefully. Deep lines of care were in his face--lines that had not been there before, and a sprinkling of silver also showed in his hair. And little wonder. Since returning from his voyage upon the Ranger, he had encountered nothing but heart-breaking delays, rebuffs and disappointments. Since France had also gone to war with England he had expected to receive command of a French ship to sail under the stars and stripes. But nothing had come of it. Hopes of one kind or another were held out to him from time to time, but all resulted in bitter disappointments. At length a rich banker of Paris, Le Ray de Chaumont, who admired the Americans and earnestly desired victory for the cause of liberty, took an active part in Jones’ affairs; and at last the king was moved to do something for the American officer. “We will place him in command of a squadron, make a descent upon Liverpool, and land a military force. Lafayette has just arrived from America in good time; we shall have him in command of the troops.” But there were no warships at hand for this venture; so, by request, Jones had gone from port seeking vessels that could be converted. At L’Orient he came upon a huge old-fashioned merchantman that had sailed for some fifteen years in the India trade and had been finally condemned, dismantled and allowed to gradually fall into a state of ruin. This old vessel was called the Due de Duras, and was the most likely one that the hard pressed officer could find. “She was eventually purchased for me,” John Paul Jones said, in telling Ethan the story, “and so were two other and smaller merchant ships--the Pallas and the Vengeance. A fine American frigate was also placed under my command; she is called the Alliance; then there is also the Cerf, a king’s cutter. “I at once set about getting these vessels into condition for the cruise. The name of the Due de Duras I changed to that of Bon Homme Richard. That, as I suppose you know, is the title of the French translation of Dr. Franklin’s ‘Poor Richard’s Almanac,’ of which I am a great admirer.” As Ethan learned, the Richard was a ship of obsolete type; her towering poop and top-gallant forecastle gave her a strange and ancient look. Neglect had rotted her timbers and weakened her frame; and she was scarcely sound enough to stand the necessary repairs. Nevertheless, her captain went bravely ahead and did all he could to strengthen her. He pierced her for twenty-eight guns on her main deck, and six on the tall forecastle and poop.