"Well, rouse from your abstraction," de Bouille said. "There is 'Le Robuste.' And unless I miss my guess, sir, you're going to receive a captain's salute."
He was. De Bouille smiled with pleasure as he mounted the ladder behind Barney. The men stood at attention; the pipes twittered; the hot sun beat down, and de Bouille, at his side, said formally, "I shall escort you to le Comte de Grasse, sir."
Barney said, low, as they went aft, "And you look as though you know what's going to happen, sir."
De Bouille shook his head. "Well, perhaps a little," he conceded. He introduced two Swedish officers who had come to greet them. Their French was execrable, Barney thought, making polite replies, as they openly stared at him, Barney knew many Swedish nobility sought glory and battle with the French fleet.
The ship was a beautiful one. "Le Robuste" boasted only sixty-four cannon, less than most fleet commanders used, but this ship—Barney
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wrenched his thoughts from her. De Bouille was saying, "Le Comte de Grasse will receive you on the stem gallery, sir."
Had it not been for the Haitien heat Barney would have had the illusion he was in Brest. The presence of the fleet, the babble of French voices, the very sight of le Comte de Grasse. Barney and he had met in Martinique. De Grasse bowed. De Bouille excused himself. And Barney found himself using his French.
"I assure you it is a pleasure, my lord."
De Grasse begged him to be seated. He went on to say that it was pleasant out here, a little breeze and shaded, and Barney complimented him on the ship. De Grasse smiled.
"I'm really an old soldier, you know, sir." He smiled faintly. Then he added, "Perhaps that's why I receive orders with better humor from the military branch." His eyes sparkled. "I apprised you of the receipt of your return communication this morning, that you held the 'Athena' in readiness for sailing."
He did not expect an answer—none was necessary, so he went right on. "Speed is of the essence. We know that Hood sailed. Last night I received despatches from General Washington. I have considered them, and I have written my reply. Two days ago I received despatches from France and from Rochambeau."
Rochambeau was the commander of the French armies in America. Barney knew that what he had suspected four days ago in Stasia was true. Something important was brewing. What Washington needed now was money and sea power. Was he going to get it? And suddenly he heard de Grasse say, "But first I must convey to you the respects of His Majesty, King Louis the Sixteenth, He has empowered me, sir, to offer you the rank of Captain in the Royal French Navy, with the command of the sister ship of *Le Robuste'— the ship 'Le Gloire.' "
It took only a few seconds to say the words. Had they actually been said? Barney's eyes studied de Grasse; the words echoed around in his head. Then he jumped to his feet.
"You overwhelm me, sir!"
He stood there, with de Grasse watching him. He stood motionless; he had indeed spoken the truth. He wondered whether de Grasse knew, could possibly know, what such an offer would mean to a man who had been born in a little white frame house with a dock hanging on thin legs over the Mullica river, in New Jersey where the mosquitoes bit so badly. He said aloud, "Sir, there have
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been times when I didn't have enough to eat."' He grinned, and threw out his big hands. "I don't mean in prison, either, sir." He walked across the gallery and back again. "Forgive my pacing, m'lord, but it's long habit. I'm trying to think."
De Grasse was thinking this forthright manner was what had charmed the court. "And rightly so," he announced. "Look, sir, as an old campaigner I know what you mean."
"And it has taken me a few minutes to assimilate this. His Majesty does me great honor." He sank down into his chair again.
"Consider, sir."
De Grasse's voice came through Barney's thoughts. This was what he had always wanted. With these cruises this year he had made and piled up thousands of unspent dollars. With high rank, with money, with a magnificent ship and later perhaps a squadron—and Paris to come back to. A command in the French Navy was reserved for nobility, but—
This was what he had always thought he wanted. Was it possible he was going to turn it down? And that the decision was going to be so easy? It crossed his mind that sometimes a man knew little about the changes that went on within him, until the new values suddenly made themselves plain, for it was wonderfully clear now what his answer would be.
But in his pocket was a letter from Robert Morris, just received. Morris was Agent of Marine, now. Morris was in charge of a handful of ships, of a brand new struggling Navy; at this moment in his oil-lit offices he was probably trying to scrape up some money to buy one more. Barney said:
"But it is plain to me, sir, that even though my services are not at present enlisted in the United States Navy, they should remain available." As he said it, he knew he had put it bluntly; he wondered how de Grasse would take it. His admiration for de Grasse rose because de Grasse nodded gravely.
"I understand your position, sir. I did not know what answer you would give. It was suspected that in time of war we should receive a negative from you. Therefore, we wish it made plain the commission remains open to you, sir, at any time."
"Thank you, sir," Barney said, and would have continued.
"Now on to the other matter. My methods may seem unorthodox to you, sir." He looked questioning.
"Indeed not," Barney said. "I like them."
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De Grasse laughed. "We are far away from court orders, nevertheless there are a batch of them. There are two places for attack on the American shores. The Chesapeake and New York. Therefore, and with Rochambeau's urging and Washington's, we have picked the Chesapeake, with Cornwallis as our target. I've raised the money from Havana merchants. The court also wants me to send a convoy home. This order I'm going to disregard. I'm taking every available ship to the Chesapeake; therefore, I'm entrusting to you the despatches for Washington." Once more he gave Barney no chance to reply. He went right on. "His army is poised, ready to strike at either New York or Carolina—they want to know only where we will be. A fast frigate has already been spared to apprise de Barras, in Newport. He is taking the wide route, to avoid the British, carrying with him our siege artillery. Thirty-five hundred soldiers have been spared by the Governor of Cap Haitien, here, upon condition of the Spanish fleet anchoring at this place, which assurances I have just yesterday received. It is my wish that these despatches be received by Washington no later than the fifteenth, for I intend to anchor in Lynnhaven Bay, just within the capes of the Chesapeake, on the thirtieth of August, with twenty-eight ships of the line. De Barras is under orders to saU the twenty-seventh; Washington is ready to march. Cornwallis will be trapped and we should have his surrender in six weeks or so. How long will it take you to make the voyage?"
"Five days, with good winds," said Barney.
"Good," said de Grasse. "You will not meet with Hood. I expect Hood to reach America at least a week before I do; he will probably poke his nose in the Chesapeake, see it empty, and sail on to New York. He will return with reinforcements; by that time we shall be in possession of the bay—and can seek battle when we choose."
It was the eighth of August. De Grasse held out a sealed oilskin packet. "Here are the despatches. I have picked the fastest frigate here, and to my mind the best commander, to carry them. Good luck, sir."