Captain Paul. Dumas Alexandre

smiled: in turn. "But," continued Emanuel, "what I wish to know is, to what nation she actually belongs, the port, that she is bound to, and the name of her captain."

      "As to the nation she belongs to," replied the lieutenant,

      "She has taken care to give us that information herself, or she is, an outrageous liar; Do you not see her flag flying from her peak? It is the flag without a stain, rather worn out from being too much used that's all. As to the place she is bound to, it is as the commandant of the fort told you, when, you asked him, – Mexico." Emanuel looked with astonishment at the young lieutenant. "And finally, as to her captain, that is a much more difficult matter.. There are some people who would swear he is a young man about my own age or yours, for; I, believe we left the cradle pretty closely the one after, the other, although the professions we follow may place a long interval between our graves. There are others who pretend he is of the same age with my uncle the Count d'Estaing, who as you doubtless know, has just been made an admiral, and who is at: this moment affording every assistance to the rebels of America, as some people, even in France, still call them. But, in short, as to his name, that is quite another thing; it is said he does not know it himself; and until some fortunate occurrence shall apprise him of it, he calls himself Paul."

      "Paul?"

      "Yes, Captain Paul."

      "Paul, what?"

      "Paul, of the Providence, of the Banger, of the Alliance, according to the name of the ship he commands. Are there not also in France some of our young nobles, who, finding their family name too short, lengthen it out by the name of an estate, and surmount the whole with a knight's casque, or a baron's coronet: so that their seals or their carriages bear the evidence of belonging to some ancient family, quite delightful to reflect upon? Well! so it is with him. At this moment he calls himself, I believe, Paul, of the Indienne, and he is proud of the appellation; if I may judge front my naval sympathies, I do not think he would exchange his frigate for the finest estate to be found between the Port of Brest and the mouth of the Rhone."

      "But, tell me," rejoined Emanuel, after reflecting for a moment on the singular mixture of simplicity and sarcasm which pervaded the answers of his companion; "what is the character of this man?"

      "His character – but, my dear baron – count – marquis" —

      "Count," replied Emanuel, bowing.

      "Well, my dear count, then, I was about to say that you pursued me from one abstraction to another, and that when I placed at you disposal all my knowledge in algebra, I did not intend that we should enter into a research of the unknown. His character! good heaven, my dear count, who can speak knowingly of the character of a man, unless it be himself – and even then – but hold – I, myself, as you now see me, have ploughed for twenty years, at one time with the keel of a brig, at another with that of a frigate, this vast expanse, which now extends itself before us. My eyes, for so I may express myself, discerned the ocean almost at the same moment that they saw the sky above it; since my tongue was able to join two words together, or my comprehension could combine two ideas, I have interrogated and studied the caprices of the ocean, and yet I do not, even to this time, know its character – and there are only four principal winds and thirty-two breezes which agitate it – that's all. How, then, can you expect that I should judge of man, torn as he is by his thousand passions."

      "Nor did I ask you, my dear – duke – marquis – count?" —

      "Lieutenant," replied the young sailor, bowing, as Emanuel had done before.

      "I was about to say, then, my dear lieutenant, I do not ask a physiological lecture on the passions of Captain Paul. I only wish to inform myself upon two points. Firstly, whether you consider him a man of honor?"

      "We must first of all understand each other as to the meaning of words, my dear count – what is your precise definition of the word honor?"

      "Permit me to remark, my dear lieutenant, that this question is a most singular one. Honor! Why, honor – is – honor."

      "That's it precisely – a word without a definition, like the word God! God – is God! and every one creates a God after his own fashion. The Egyptians adored him under the form of a scorpion – the Israelites, under that of a golden calf. So it is with honor. There is the honor of Camillus, and that of Coriolanus – that of the Cid, and that of Count Julian. Define your question better if you wish me to reply to it."

      "I ask, then, whether his word may be relied upon?"

      "I do not believe he ever failed in that regard. His enemies – and no one can arrive to his station without having them – even his enemies, I say, have never doubted that he would keep, even unto death, an oath which he had sworn to. This point is, therefore, believe me, fully settled. In this respect, he is a man of honor. Let us pass, therefore, to your second question, for if I do not deceive myself, you wish to know something farther."

      "Yes, I wish to know whether he would faithfully obey an order given by his Majesty?"

      "What Majesty?"

      "Really, my dear lieutenant, you affect a difficulty of comprehension which would better suit the gown of a sophist, than a naval uniform."

      "Why so? You accuse me of cavilling, because, before replying, I wish to know precisely what I have to answer. We have, at this? present time, eight or ten majesties, seated securely or otherwise, upon the different thrones of Europe. We have his Catholic Majesty – a feeble majesty, who allows the inheritance, left him by Charles, the Fifth, to be torn from him piece by piece; – we have his Britannic Majesty – a headstrong majesty, who clings to his America, as Cyingetus to the Persian ship, and whose hands we shall cut off, if he does not loose his hold; – we have his Christian Majesty, whom I venerate and honor" —

      "Well – it is of him I wish to speak," said Emanuel,

      "Do you believe that Captain Paul would feel disposed to obey an order which I should deliver from him?"

      "Captain Paul," replied the lieutenant, "would, as every captain ought to do, obey every order emanating from a power which has the right of commanding him – unless indeed he be an accursed pirate, or some damned privateersman, some buccaneer, who owes no allegiance, and which I should doubt from the appearance of the frigate he commands, and from the way she is fitted. He must have then in some drawer of his cabin, a commission signed by some power or other. Well! should this commission bear the name of Louis, and be sealed with the fleur-de-lis of France, there can be no doubt that he would obey any order sealed, and signed by the same name."

      "This is all then that I wish to be informed of," replied the young mousquetaire, who began to grow impatient at the strange and evasive answers given by his companion. "I will only ask you one more question." "I am ready to obey your wishes in that, as I have in the rest, count," returned the lieutenant.

      "Do you know any way of getting on board of that ship?"

      "There is one," replied the lieutenant, pointing towards his own boat, which lay rocked, by the waves, in a small creek close to them.

      "That boat! why, is it yours?"

      "Well! I will take you on board."

      "You know this Captain Paul, then?"

      "I? not in the least! But as nephew of an admiral, I am naturally acquainted with every officer of a ship, from a boatswain, who pipes the hands aloft, to the rear admiral, who commands a squadron. Besides which, we sailors have secret signs among us, a certain masonic language, by which we know one another as brothers in whatever part of the ocean we may meet. You may, therefore, accept my proposal with the same frankness in which I offer it. I, my rowers, and my boat, are at your disposal."

      "Do me this service, then," said Emanuel, "and" —

      "You will forgive me the annoyance I have caused by my tergiversations, will you not?" said the lieutenant. "You cannot be surprised at it," continued he smiling, "my dear count, the solicitude of a seaman's life has given to us children of the sea, the habit of soliloquising. During a calm, we invoke the winds! During the tempest, we invoke the calm; and during the night we address ourselves to God."

      Emanuel again looked doubtingly