Chapter 20

THE SHUTTLE.

For a time back, across the otherwise blue-jean career of Israel, Paul
Jones flits and re-flits like a crimson thread. One more brief
intermingling of it, and to the plain old homespun we return.

The battle won, the squadron started for the Texel, where they arrived
in safety. Omitting all mention of intervening harassments, suffice it,
that after some months of inaction as to anything of a warlike nature,
Paul and Israel (both, from different motives, eager to return to
America) sailed for that country in the armed ship Ariel, Paul as
commander, Israel as quartermaster.

Two weeks out, they encountered by night a frigate-like craft, supposed
to be an enemy. The vessels came within hail, both showing English
colors, with purposes of mutual deception, affecting to belong to the
English Navy. For an hour, through their speaking trumpets, the captains
equivocally conversed. A very reserved, adroit, hoodwinking,
statesman-like conversation, indeed. At last, professing some little
incredulity as to the truthfulness of the stranger's statement, Paul
intimated a desire that he should put out a boat and come on board to
show his commission, to which the stranger very affably replied, that
unfortunately his boat was exceedingly leaky. With equal politeness,
Paul begged him to consider the danger attending a refusal, which
rejoinder nettled the other, who suddenly retorted that he would answer
for twenty guns, and that both himself and men were knock-down
Englishmen. Upon this, Paul said that he would allow him exactly five
minutes for a sober, second thought. That brief period passed, Paul,
hoisting the American colors, ran close under the other ship's stern,
and engaged her. It was about eight o'clock at night that this strange
quarrel was picked in the middle of the ocean. Why cannot men be
peaceable on that great common? Or does nature in those fierce
night-brawlers, the billows, set mankind but a sorry example?

After ten minutes' cannonading, the stranger struck, shouting out that
half his men were killed. The Ariel's crew hurrahed. Boarders were
called to take possession. At this juncture, the prize shifting her
position so that she headed away, and to leeward of the Ariel, thrust
her long spanker-boom diagonally over the latter's quarter; when Israel,
who was standing close by, instinctively caught hold of it--just as he
had grasped the jib-boom of the Serapis--and, at the same moment,
hearing the call to take possession, in the valiant excitement of the
occasion, he leaped upon the spar, and made a rush for the stranger's
deck, thinking, of course, that he would be immediately followed by the
regular boarders. But the sails of the strange ship suddenly filled;
she began to