shells and tortoises and great milky pearls and little green
lizards; and she gave me guinea-pigs, and coral to make into
waistcoat-buttons, and tame sea-otters, and a real
pirate's
powder-horn. It was a prolific day and a long-lasting one, and
weary were we with all our
hunting and our getting and our
gathering, when at last we clambered into the captain's gig and
rowed back to a late tea.
The following day my
conscience rose up and accused me. This was
not what I had come out to do. These triflings with pearls and
parrakeets, these al fresco luncheons off yams and bananas--
there was no "making of history" about them, I
resolved that
without further dallying I would turn to and
capture the French
frigate, according to the original programme. So we upped anchor
with the morning tide, and set all sail for San Salvador.
Of course I had no idea where San Salvador really was. I haven't
now, for that matter. But it seemed a right-sounding sort of
name for a place that was to have a bay that was to hold a French
frigate that was to be cut out; so, as I said, we sailed for San
Salvador, and made the bay about eight bells that evening, and
saw the topmasts of the
frigate over the
headland that sheltered
her. And
forthwith there was summoned a Council of War.
It is a very serious matter, a Council of War. We had not held
one
hitherto,
pirates and truck of that sort not
calling for such
solemn
treatment. But in an affair that might almost be
called
international, it seemed well to proceed
gravely and by
regular steps. So we met in my cabin--the Princess, and the
bo'sun, and a boy from the real-life lot, and a man from among
the book-men, and a fellow from No-man's-land, and myself in the
chair.
The bo'sun had taken part in so many cuttings-out during his past
career that practically he did all the talking, and was the
Council of War himself. It was to be an affair of boats, he
explained. A boat's-crew would be told off to cut the cables,
and two boats'-crews to climb
stealthily on board and overpower
the
sleeping Frenchmen, and two more boats' crews to haul the
doomed
vessel out of the bay. This made rather a demand on my
limited resources as to crews; but I was prepared to stretch a
point in a case like this, and I
speedily brought my numbers up
to the
requisite efficiency.
The night was both moonless and star-less--I had arranged all
that--when the boats pushed off from the side of our
vessel, and
made their way toward the ship that,
unfortunately for itself,
had been singled out by Fate to carry me home in
triumph. I was
in excellent spirits, and, indeed, as I stepped over the side, a
lawless idea crossed my mind, of discovering another Princess on
board the
frigate--a French one this time; I had heard that that
sort was rather nice. But I
abandoned the notion at once,
recollecting that the heroes of all history had always been noted
for their unswerving constancy.
The French captain was snug in bed when I clambered in through
his cabin window and held a naked cutlass to his throat.
Naturally he was surprised and
considerably alarmed, till I
discharged one of my set speeches at him, pointing out that my
men already had his crew under hatchways, that his
vesselwas even then being towed out of harbour, and that, on his
accepting the situation with a good grace, his person and private
property would be treated with all the respect due to the
representative of a great nation for which I entertained feelings
of the profoundest
admiration and regard and all that sort of
thing. It was a beautiful speech. The Frenchman at once
presented me with his parole, in the usual way, and, in a reply
of some power and pathos, only begged that I would
retire a
moment while he put on his
trousers. This I
gracefully consented
to do, and the
incident ended.
Two of my boats were sunk by the fire from the forts on the
shore, and several brave fellows were
severely wounded in the
hand-to-hand struggle with the French crew for the possession of
the
frigate. But the bo'sun's
admirablestrategy, and my
own
reckless gallantry in securing the French captain at the