He had had his high moment with the French admiral, had given his
commands to the fleet and had arranged the disposition of the captured
French ships. He was in good spirits, and the wreckage in the fleet
seemed not to shake his nerve, for he had lost in men far less than the
enemy, and had captured many ships--a good day's work, due finally to the
man in sailor's clothes standing there with Captain Ivy. The admiral
took in the dress of Calhoun at a glance--the trousers of blue cloth, the
sheath-knife belt, the stockings of white silk, the white shirt with the
horizontal stripes, the loose, unstarched, collar, the fine black silk
handkerchief at the throat, the waistcoat of red kerseymere, the shoes
like dancing-pumps, and the short, round blue jacket, with the flat gold
buttons--a seaman complete. He smiled broadly; he liked this mutineer
and ex-convict.
"Captain Calhoun, eh!" he remarked mockingly, and bowed satirically.
"Well, you've played a strong game, and you've plunged us into great
difficulty."
Dyck did not lose his opportunity. "Happily, I've done what I planned to
do when we left the Thames, admiral," he said. "We came to get the
chance of doing what, by favour of fate, we have accomplished. Now, sir,
as I'm under arrest, and the ship which I controlled has done good
service, may I beg that the Ariadne's personnel shall have amnesty, and
that I alone be made to pay--if that must be--for the mutiny at the
Nore.
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