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“Take me to that ship over yonder with ‘Alfred’ painted on her stern.”

The boy pulled away with a will, but kept his eyes fixed on Paul Jones’s uniform and the sword which lay across his knee.

“Them ships is to fight the British, ain’t they?” he asked presently, jerking his head toward the ships then just collected in the river, whose crews and armaments were yet to be provided.

“Yes,” answered Paul Jones, smiling. “If you were a man I would enlist you.”

The boy said nothing more, but pulled steadily toward the Alfred. When they reached the side of the ship her decks were heaped with coils of rope, piles of shot, some unmounted guns, and all the litter of a merchant vessel being converted into a man-of-war. But the Alfred, although not built for fighting, was yet a stanch little ship, and when armed and manned had no cause to run away from any vessel of her class.

Paul Jones studied her with the eye of a seaman, as they approached. Meanwhile a crowd of strange thoughts rushed upon him. “At last,” he thought to himself, “I am at the beginning of my career. A poor Scotch gardener’s son, shipping as a common sailor boy because there were so many mouths to feed at home—coming, at thirteen, to this new country that I have learned to love so well—left a modest fortune, and rising to the command of a ship before I was twenty, I determined to cast my fate with these people, to whom I owe all the kindness I ever knew, and I was proud to be among the first to raise my arm in the defense of these colonies against tyranny. All those I loved as a child in Scotland are dead, and all that is now dear to me is in my adopted country. The cause of these colonies is a just one, and I could no more refuse to fight for that cause than any man born here. The chances for success and promotion are all with the army; our few small vessels can hope for but little in contests with England, the Mistress of the Seas; but I think I was born a sailor, and my heart turns ever toward blue water. The day that I received my commission as a lieutenant in the Continental navy was surely the most blessed and fortunate of my life, and my adopted country shall never have cause to regret giving it me.” Deep in his heart Paul Jones had a strange feeling that glory awaited him; for those destined to immortality have mysterious foreknowledge of it.