"That's the eight shillin' ye gave me fur the mare an' meself, an' Oi think yure honor ought to give me two more in consequince av the fright ye gave me. Shure it'll be a long day befure Oi git over it! Whin Oi turned an' saw that ingia rubber thing over ye Oi thought it was the very divil himself."

Paul laughed and handed him over the other two shillings, with: "Now, that's all you get."

"Well, good luck an' may the--" here his flow of blessings were cut off by Mr. Jolly who threw him out of the room.

When the stage coach drove up to the door almost the entire population of Skibbereen was out. l.u.s.ty cheers were given for Paul as he mounted the outside of the coach, in answer to which he fastened the American flag to his paddle and waved it to the cheering populace as he drove out of town. On reaching Dunmanway, Paul entered the train and started for Cork.

CHAPTER VIII.

Soon after Paul left the Queen, the gale that almost cost him his life, broke down on that gallant vessel. The captain put her nose in it and headed her off for sea. All night she ploughed against it while the huge seas burst over her and whitened her smoke stacks with salt to the very top. Not a soul on board believed that Paul would last in the gale half an hour after she broke out, and the captain blamed himself keenly for letting him go. The steamer did not succeed is reaching Queenstown harbor until noon next day. When the lighter came along side for the mails a man pa.s.sed a telegram up to the captain. He feverishly tore it open and found with great relief that it was from Paul.

"Thank G.o.d that he is safe," he exclaimed, and he then read it aloud to the pa.s.sengers.

Cheer after cheer went up as the news was spread along the decks. Having discharged her mail and pa.s.sengers for Ireland, the Queen resumed her way to Liverpool, while the lighter steamed into Queenstown. Evidences of the ravages of the storm were visible on all sides. Dismantled ships, unroofed houses and vessels ash.o.r.e told the story of its force in that vicinity. It was afterwards ascertained that fifty-six vessels were lost in the same storm on the southern coast of Great Britain that night.

When the lighter reached Queenstown, the pa.s.sengers were full of excitement in regard to Paul's wonderful feat and they spread the story broadcast both in Queenstown and Cork. To their disgust, they found that the people disbelieved them and laughed at them saving:

"This is a fine Yankee yarn you are springing on us now."

To convince the skeptical people of Cork, a party of them telegraphed all over the coast to see if they could not find Paul, to verify their story and from Skibbereen they learned that a man answering that description had pa.s.sed through there and was now on his way to Cork.

When Paul arrived at the station he found himself surrounded by many of his late fellow pa.s.sengers, who enthusiastically received him and escorted him to the hotel. The news of his remarkable adventure spread over Cork as rapidly as it had over Skibbereen, so that the hotel was thronged with eager people, the newspaper fraternity being well represented. It was late that night before he got through with his persistent interviewers and before he woke next morning, the story of his extraordinary adventure and daring was all over America. The Cork papers contained columns, describing his struggle with the ocean.

Before he could dress himself, cards came showering into his room and when he went down he found the hotel packed with people eager to see him. For a few days Paul enjoyed the extravagantly warm hospitality of Cork. He was taken everywhere worth visiting, entertained with dinners, parties and receptions until his head swam with the whirl of attentions that he was so unaccustomed to. During his stay in the hotel a large party of huntsmen who came to Cork to partic.i.p.ate in a grand hunt nearby, had a banquet to which he was invited. Paul was made the hero of the evening and so many were the toasts drank in his honor that he looked anxiously for a chance to escape the profuse but reckless hospitality. When an opportunity presented itself he slipped out and took a long walk in the night air. As he returned to the hotel and was about to ascend to his room, he could hear his late companions in one of their hunting songs enjoying themselves. Observing a stalwart porter connected with the hotel, laboriously bearing one of his late red-coated entertainers on his back as he mounted the stairs, Paul, thinking some accident had occurred ran to the porter and asked: "Why, what is the matter with the gentleman? Is he killed? Has there been a fight?"

"Oh, no sur, it's wan of the gintlemen, he's only a little overcome. Oi put thim all to bed this way, yure honor, and moight ave had the pleasure av puttin' yureself to bed if ye had remained."

With sailor-like recklessness, Boyton never thought of how all this would end and he spent what money he had freely. One morning before rising from his bed, he began thinking the situation over. As he examined it closely and counted what money he had left, the outlook took on a most gloomy hue. He was confident that he did not have coin enough to pay half his hotel bill alone, not to think of getting home.

After studying the matter over for some time he came to the conclusion that the only course he could pursue was frankly to confess to the landlord how he was situated and offer to leave his rubber suit until he could return home and send for it. Then he would go to Queenstown and see if he could not procure a position on some vessel bound for America. Just as he came to this conclusion he was interrupted by a knock at the door.

"Ten to one it's the landlord with my bill," thought Paul.

When he opened the door he was confronted by an energetic, little man who talked with great rapidity.

"Captain Paul Boyton, I believe, sir. Here is my card, I thought I would bring it up myself to save time. I have a great scheme for you. Go on, proceed with your dressing and I will talk about it. I am the manager of the Opera Company now playing at Munster Hall and I have a scheme by which you and I will make a considerable amount of money. I presume you are not averse to making money?" looking inquiringly at Paul.

"Well, no," responded Paul. "It's very useful at times."

"Well, sir, I have a great scheme. A great scheme, indeed."

"What is it?"

"You know all Cork is wild to see you, and my idea is that you shall give a little lecture. We can fill Munster Hall from pit to dome."

Paul looked at the man curiously for a few moments and made up his mind that he was crazy.

"Why, my dear sir, I am not a lecturer. I could not lecture. I never even made a speech in my life."

"That's nothing, that's nothing," responded the nervous and energetic little manager, "So much the better. I will do the lecturing for you.

All you will have to do will be to stand there and exhibit your dress."

"Well, under those circ.u.mstances," responded Paul, who still considered the manager a little off, and seeing a probable means of paying his hotel bill, "What terms will you give me if I consent?"

"One half the house and I will do the advertising."

"And the lecturing too, remember," said Paul.

"Yes, yes, that's all right, we'll sign the contract immediately."

"But hold on," said Paul, "there is another question I want to ask you.

How much do you suppose my share will be?"

"Between thirty and forty pounds. I am almost certain."

"Are you positive it will be twenty-five pounds?"

"Absolutely positive, confident my dear fellow."

"Then," said Paul "I will sign this contract on condition that you will pay me five pounds in advance."

Paul thought this stroke of policy would end the interview and rid him of his visitor. To his intense surprise, the five pound note was laid on the table without any hesitation. It was quickly transferred to Paul's pocket.

"Now make out your contract and we will sign it."

"Have done so, have done so; did it last night when I thought of the scheme. Have it all made out. Sign here."

Paul carelessly glanced over the contract an affixed his signature; after which the manager shook him warmly by the hand and congratulated him on having entered on such a brilliant enterprise, and said "I will now go and attend to the printing. We will dine together," he added as he disappeared through the door.

"And remember you do the lecturing," Paul called after him as he rushed down stairs.

When he left, Paul locked the door, drew out the five pound note which he carefully examined to convince himself that it was genuine. He then in his great joy took two or three handsprings and made such a noise that the chambermaid rapped on his door and desired to know if the gentleman was knocking for anything. During the day, the manager visited Paul frequently and gave him encouragement. By evening the report of the intended lecture had circulated pretty well and Paul was frequently stopped on the street by acquaintances who a.s.sured him of their pleasure at having a chance to hear him speak. Paul took pains to tell all who questioned him in regard to it that it was not he but Mr. Murphy who was going to give the lecture. Next day Cork was covered with great bills announcing the lecture for the following evening and a feeling of nervousness overcame Paul as he beheld his name in such enormous letters. This nervous feeling was in no way allayed when he perused one of the bills and found that the enterprising manager, had not only promised that he would give a description of his landing on the Irish coast but that he would relate many thrilling adventures he had pa.s.sed through in the American, French and Mexican wars; would describe time methods of life-saving in America, and compare it with the British method of life-saving service, and many other things that Paul did not dare to read, as he had sufficient. He sought out the plausible Mr. Murphy and vehemently went for him for deceiving the public.

"Never mind, my boy, never mind, the people all understand how it is.

You will have nothing to do except to make a few remarks."

But Paul was not satisfied. He tried to commit to memory the few remarks he supposed he would have to make when he was introduced; but he would no sooner get them in ship shape than they would disappear again. The night of the, to him, terrible ordeal arrived. Manager Murphy took him to the Hall in a carriage. Great crowds surrounded the building and the manager a.s.sured him that it was already full inside. The arrangements were that Paul was to appear between the acts of the opera, which that night was "Madame Angot." Murphy took Paul to his own private office in the second story and encouraged him in every way he could. Paul listened to the music of the first act, as it rolled by with fearful swiftness. Never before in his life did he experience the feeling of nervousness which now seemed to possess him. Once during Murphy's absence from the office he raised the window and looked down into the river Lee that ran alongside the building and wondered if he could drop into the water without breaking his leg. All that deterred him was the thought of the five pounds that had been advanced. The fated moment arrived; the manager said:

"Your suit and paddle and appliances are out on a table on the stage.

The curtain is down and the moment it rises you walk boldly out to the side of the table and I will follow you. Don't be afraid, the audience is most kindly disposed toward you and will give you a warm welcome."

Up went the curtain, Murphy's hand was laid on Paul's shoulder as he said:

"Now, my boy, step right out."

Paul braced himself and with his heart as near his mouth as he ever had it before during his existence, walked over to the table on which lay his suit, paddle, etc., etc.

The deafening roar of applause that greeted him set him more at his ease. He looked around for Mr. Murphy, but failed to see that worthy gentleman. So making a few steps towards the foot-lights he thanked the audience, in a trembling voice, for their kindness. He told them that he was no speaker and that Mr. Murphy had promised to do the lecturing part of the business. At this moment cries broke out all over the house: