Bolt had not been tried. His case had several serious
difficulties, and the orders allowed of a discretion. The
punishment could scarcely be less than death, and, in addition
to the loss of a stout, sinewy man, it involved questions of
natural right, that were not always pleasant to be considered.
Although the impressment of American seamen into the
British ships of war was probably one of the most serious
moral, as well as political wrongs, that one independent
nation ever received at the hands of another, viewed as a
practice of a generation's continuance, it was not wholly
without some relieving points. There was a portion of the
British marine that disdained to practise it at all; leaving it
to the coarser spirits of the profession to discharge a duty

[figure description] Page 049.[end figure description]

that they, themselves, found repugnant to their feelings and
their habits. Thus, we remember to have heard an American
seaman say, one who had been present on many occasions
when his countrymen were torn from under their
flag, that in no instance he ever witnessed, was the officer
who committed the wrong of an air and manner that he
should describe as belonging to the class of gentlemen, on
shore. Whenever one of the latter boarded his vessel, the
crew was permitted to pass unquestioned.

Let this be as it might, there is no question that a strong
and generous feeling existed in the breasts of hundreds in
the British navy, concerning the nature of the wrong that
was done a foreign people, by the practice of impressing
men from under their flag. Although Cuffe was too much
of a martinet to carry his notions on the subject to a very
refined point, he was too much of a man not to be reluctant
to punish another for doing what he felt he would have done
himself, under similar circumstances, and what he could not
but know he would have had a perfect right to do. It was
impossible to mistake one like Ithuel, who had so many of
the Granite peculiarities about him, for anything but what
he was; and so well was his national character established
in the ship, that the sobriquet of The Yankee had been applied
to him, by his shipmates, from the very first. The
fact, therefore, stood him so far in hand, that Cuffe, after a
consultation with Winchester, determined not to put the
alleged deserter on trial; but, after letting him remain a
short time in irons, to turn him to duty, again, under a pretence
that was often used on such occasions, viz., to give
the man an opportunity of proving his American birth, if he
were really what he so strenuously professed to be. Poor
Ithuel was not the only one who was condemned to this
equivocal servitude, hundreds passing weary years of probation,
with the same dim ray of hope, for ever deferred,
gleaming in the distance. It was determined, however, not
to put Ithuel on his trial, until the captain had conversed
with the admiral on the subject, at least; and Nelson, removed
from the influence of the siren by whom he was
enthralled, was a man inclined to leniency, and of even
chivalrous notions of justice. To such contradictions is

[figure description] Page 050.[end figure description]

even a great mind subject, when it loses sight of the polar
star of its duties!

When the sentence on Raoul was pronounced, therefore,
and the prisoner was removed, the court adjourned; a boat
being immediately despatched to the Foudroyant with a copy
of the proceedings, for the rear-admiral's approbation. Then
followed a discussion on much the most interesting topic for
them all; the probable position of, and the means of capturing
the lugger. That le Feu-Follet was near, all were convinced;
but where she was to be found, it was hard to tell.
Officers had been sent on the heights of Capri, one of which
towers more than a thousand feet above the sea; but they
returned from a bootless errand. Nothing resembling the
lugger was visible in the offing, among the islands, or in the
bays. A cutter had been sent to look round Campanella,
and another crossed the mouth of the bay, to take a look
to the northward of Ischia, in order to make certain that the
treacherous craft had not gone behind the mountains of that
island, for a refuge. In short, no expedient, likely to discover
the fugitive, was neglected. All failed, however; boat after
boat came back, without success, and officer after officer
returned wearied and disappointed.

Much of the day was passed in this manner, for it was a
calm, and moving either of the ships was out of the question.
In the full expectation of discovering the lugger somewhere
in striking distance, Cuffe had even gone so far as to detail
a party from each vessel, with a view to attack her in boats,
again; feeling no doubt of success, now that he had the disposable
force of three vessels to send against his enemy.
Winchester was to have commanded, as a right purchased by
his blood; nor was the hope of succeeding, in this way,
abandoned, until the last boat, that which had been sent round
Ischia, returned, and reported its total want of success.

“I have heard it said,” observed Cuffe, as he and his
brother captains stood conversing together on the quarterdeck
of the Proserpine, just after this last report had been
made—“I have heard it said, that this Raoul Yvard has
actually gone boldly into several of our ports, under English
or neutral colours, and lain there a day or two at a time,
unsuspected; until it has suited him to go out again. Can
it be possible he is up, off the town?—There is such a fleet

[figure description] Page 051.[end figure description]

of craft, in and about the mole, that a little lugger, with her
paint and marks altered, might be among them.—What
think you, Lyon?”

“It is sairtainly a law of nature, Captain Cuffe, that
smaller objects should be overlooked, in the presence of
greater; and such a thing might happen, therefore; though
I should place it among the improbables, if not absolutely
among the impossibles. 'T would be far safer, nevertheless,
to run in, in the manner you designate, among a hundred or
two of ships, than to venture alone into a haven or a roadstead.
If you wish for retirement, Sir Frederick, plunge at
once into the Strand, or take lodgings on Ludgate Hill; but
if you wish to be noticed, and chased, go into a highland
village, and just conceal your name for a bit! Ah—he
knows the difference, well, who has tried both modes of
life!”

“This is true, Cuffe,” observed the Baronet, “and yet I
hardly think a Frenchman, big or little, would be apt to
come and anchor under Nelson's nose.”

“'T would be something like the lion's lying down with
the lamb, certainly, and ought not to be counted on as very
likely. Mr. Winchester, is not that our boat coming round
the sloop's quarter?”

“Yes, sir—she has got back from Naples—quarter-master—”

“Ay, quarter-master” — interrupted Cuffe, sternly — “a
pretty look-out is this! Here is our own boat close in upon
us, and not a word from your lips on the interesting subject,
sir!”

This word, sir, is much used on board a man-of-war, and
in all its convertible significations. From the inferior to the
superior, it comes as natural, as if it were a gift from above;
from equal to equal, it has a ceremonious and be-on-your-guard
air, that sometimes means respect, sometimes disrespect;
while, from a captain to a quarter-master, it always
means reproof, if it do not mean menace. In discussions of
this sort, it is wisest for the weaker party to be silent; and
nowhere is this truth sooner learned, than on ship-board.
The quarter-master, consequently, made no answer, and the
gig came alongside, bringing back the officer who had carried
the proceedings of the court up to Naples.

[figure description] Page 052.[end figure description]

“Here we have it,” said Cuffe, opening the important document,
as soon as he and his brother captains were again in
the cabin. `Approved—ordered that the sentence be carried
into execution on board his Majesty's ship, the Proserpine,
Captain Cuffe, to-morrow, between the hours of sunrise
and sun-set.”'

Then followed the date, and the well-known signature of
“Nelson and Bronté.” All this was what Cuffe both
wished and expected, though he would have preferred a little
more grace in carrying out the orders. The reader is not
to suppose from this, that our captain was either vengeful
or bloody-minded; or that he really desired to inflict on
Raoul any penalty for the manner in which he had baffled
his own designs and caused his crew to suffer. So far from
this, his intention was to use the sentence to extort from the
prisoner a confession of the orders he had given to those
left in the lugger, and then to use this confession as a means
of obtaining his pardon, with a transfer to a prison-ship.
Cuffe had no great veneration for privateersmen, nor was
his estimate of their morality at all unreasonable, when he
inferred that one, who served with gain for his principal
object, would not long hesitate about purchasing his own life,
by the betrayal of a secret like that he now asked. Had
Raoul belonged even to a republican navy, the English man-of-war's-man
might have hesitated about carrying out his
plan; but, with the master of a corsair, it appeared to be
the most natural thing imaginable to attempt its execution.
Both Sir Frederick and Lyon viewed the matter in the
same light; and, now that everything was legally done that
was necessary to the design, the capture of the lugger was
deemed more than half accomplished.

“It is somewhat afflicting, too, Cuffe,” observed Sir Frederick,
in his drawling, indolent way; “it is somewhat
afflicting, too, Cuffe, to be compelled to betray one's friends,
or to be hanged! In parliament, now, we say we 'll be
hanged if we do, and here you say you 'll be hanged if
you don't.”

“Poh, poh, Dashwood; no one expects this Raoul Yvard
will come to that fate, for no one thinks he will hold out.
We shall get the lugger, and that will be the end of it. I 'd
give a thousand pounds to see that d—d Few-Folly at

[figure description] Page 053.[end figure description]

anchor, within pistol-shot of my stern, at this blessed moment.
My feelings are in the matter.”

“Five hundred would be a high price,” observed Lyon,
drily. “I much doubt if the shares of us three come to as
much as a hundred apiece, even should the craft fall into
our hands.”

“By the way, gents,” put in Sir Frederick, gaping—
“suppose we toss up, or throw the dice, to see which shall
have all, on the supposition we get her within the next
twenty-four hours, timing the affair by this ship's chronometers.
You 've dice on board, I dare say, Cuffe, and we
can make a regular time of it, here, for half an hour, and
no one the wiser.”

“Your pardon, Captain Dashwood; I can suffer no such
amusement. It is unmilitary, and contrary to regulations;
and, then, hundreds are not as plenty with Lyon and myself,
as they are with you. I like to pocket my prizemoney
first, and sport on it, afterwards.”

“You 're right, Captain Cuffe,” said Lyon; “though
there can be no great innovation in sporting on Sir Frederick's
portion, if he see fit to indulge us. Money is an
agreeable acquisition beyond a doubt, and life is sweet to
saint and sinner alike; but I much question your facility in
persuading this Monshure Rawl to tell you his secret consairning
the lugger, in the manner ye anticipate.”

This opinion met with no favour; and after discussing the
point among themselves a little longer, the three captains
were on the point of separating, when Griffin burst into the
cabin, without even knocking, and altogether regardless of
the usual observances.

“One would think it blew a typhoon, Mr. Griffin,” said
Cuffe, coldly, “by the rate at which you run before it.”

“It 's an ill wind that blows no luck, sir,” answered the
lieutenant, actually panting for breath, so great had been
his haste to communicate what he had to say. “Our lookout,
on the heights above Campanella, has just signalled us
that he sees the lugger to the southward and eastward—
somewhere near the point of Piane, I suppose, sir; and what
is better, the wind is coming off-shore earlier than common
this evening.”

“That is news!” exclaimed Cuffe, rubbing his hands with

[figure description] Page 054.[end figure description]

delight. “Go on deck, Griffin, and tell Winchester to unmoor;
then make a signal to the other ships to do the same.
Now, gentlemen, we have the game in our own hands, and
let us see and play it skilfully. In a couple of hours it will
be dark, and our movements can all be made without being
seen. As the Proserpine is, perhaps, the fastest ship,”—at
this remark, Sir Frederick smiled ironically, while Lyon
raised his eyebrows like one who saw a marvel — “As the
Proserpine is, perhaps, the fastest ship, she ought to go the
farthest to leeward; and I will get under way, and stand
off to sea, keeping well to the northward and eastward, as
if I were running for the straits of Bonifacio, for instance,
until it gets to be dark, when I will haul up south, for a
couple of hours or so; then come up as high as south-east,
until we are to the southward of the gulf of Salerno. This
will be before daylight, if the wind stand. At daylight,
then, you may look out for me, off Piane, say two leagues,
and to seaward, I hope, of the lugger. You shall follow,
Sir Frederick, just as the sun sets, and keep in my wake, as
near as possible; heaving-to, however, at midnight. This
will bring you fairly abreast of the gulf, and about midway
between the two capes, a little west of south from Campanella.
Lyon, you can lie here until the night has fairly set
in, when you can pass between Capri and the cape, and run
down south two hours, and heave-to. This will place you
in a position to watch the passage to and from the gulf,
under the northern shore.”

“And this arrangement completed to your satisfaction,
Captain Cuffe,” asked Lyon, deliberately helping himself to
an enormous pinch of snuff, “what will be your pleasure in
the posterior evolutions?”

“Each ship must keep her station until the day has fairly
dawned. Should it turn out, as I trust it may, that we 've
got the le Few-Folly in-shore of us, all we 'll have to do,
will be to close in upon her, and drive her up, higher and
higher, into the Bay. She will naturally run into shallow
water; when we must anchor off, man the boats, send them
north and south of her, and let them board her, under cover
of our fire. If we find the lugger embayed, we 'll have her,
as sure as fate.”

“Very prettily conceived, Captain Cuffe; and in a way

[figure description] Page 055.[end figure description]

to be handsomely executed. But if we should happen to
find the heathen outside of us?”

“Then make sail in chase to seaward, each ship acting
for the best. Come, gentlemen, I do not wish to be inhospitable,
but the Proserpine must be off. She has a long
road before her; and the winds of this season of the year
can barely be counted on for an hour at a time.”

Cuffe being in such a hurry, his guests departed without
further ceremony. As for Sir Frederick, the first thing he
did, was to order dinner an hour earlier than he had intended,
and then to invite his surgeon and marine-officer,
two capital pairs of knives and forks, to come and share it
with him; after which, he sat down to play somewhat villanously
on a flute. Two hours later, he gave the necessary
orders to his first-lieutenant; after which, he troubled
himself very little about the frigate he commanded. Lyon,
on the other hand, sat down to a very frugal meal alone, as
soon as he found himself again in his sloop; first ordering
certain old sails to be got on deck, and to be mended for the
eighth or ninth time.

With the Proserpine it was different. Her capstan-bars
flew round, and one anchor was actually catted, by the time
her captain appeared on deck. The other soon followed,
the three topsails fell, were sheeted-home and hoisted, and
then sail was set after sail, until the ship went steadily past
the low promontory of Ana Capri, a cloud of canvass. Her
head was to the westward, inclining a little north; and had
there been any one to the southward, to watch her movements,
as there was not, so far as the eye could see, it would
have been supposed that she was standing over towards the
coast of Sardinia, most probably with an intention of passing,
by the Straits of Bonifacio, between that island and Corsica.
The wind being nearly east, and it blowing a good breeze,
the progress of the ship was such as promised to fulfil all
the expectations of her commander.

As the sun set, and darkness diffused itself over the Mediterranean,
the lighter steering-sails were taken in, and the
Proserpine brought the wind abeam, standing south. One
of the last things visible from the decks, besides the mountains
of the islands and of the main, the curling smoke of
Vesuvius, the blue void above and the bluer sea below, was

[figure description] Page 056.[end figure description]

the speck of the Terpsichore, as that ship followed, as near
as might be, in her wake; Sir Frederick and his friends
still at table, but with a vigilant and industrious first-lieutenant
on deck, who was sufficient in himself for all that
was required of the vessel, in any emergency. The latter
had his orders, and he executed them with a precision and
attention that promised to leave nothing to be wished for.
On the other hand, the people of the Ringdove were kept at
work mending old sails until the hour to “knock-off work”
arrived; then the ship unmoored. At the proper time, the
remaining anchor was lifted, and the sloop went through the
pass, between Capri and Campanella, as directed, when
Lyon sent for the first-lieutenant to join him in his cabin.

“Look you here, McBean,” said Lyon, pointing to the
chart which lay on the table; “Captain Cuffe has just run
down off Piane, and will find himself well to leeward, when
the west wind comes to-morrow; Sir Frederick has followed,
famously clear of the land, and won't be in a much better
box. Now, this lugger must be pretty picking, if all they
say of her be true. Ten to one, but she has gold in her.
These corsairs are desperate rogues after the siller, and,
taking hull, sails, armament, head-money, and the scrapings
of the lockers together, I shouldn't marvel, if she come to
something as good as 8 or £10,000. This would be fair
dividing for a sloop, but would amount to a painfully small
trifle, as between the officers of three ships, after deducting
the admiral's share. What are you thinking of, Airchy?”

“Of just that, Captain Lyon. It would be dividing every
lieutenant's share by three, as well as every captain's.”

“That 's it, Airchy, and so ye 'll have a shairp look out,
on deck. There 'll be no occasion to run down quite as far
as Captain Cuffe suggested, ye 'll obsairve; for, if in the
bay, the lugger will work her way up towards this head-land,
and we 'll be all the more likely to fall in with her, by
keeping near it ourselves. Ye 'll take the idea?”

“It 's plain enou', Captain Lyon; and I 'll be obsairving
it. How is the law understood as respects dairkness?—I
understand that none share but such as are in sight; but is
dairkness deemed a legal impediment?”

“To be sure it is; the idea being that all who can see
may act. Now, if we catch the lugger before Captain Cuffe

[figure description] Page 058.[end figure description]

ours. I sent for you, by the way, about this Bolt—something
must be done with that fellow.”

“It 's a clear case of desertion, Captain Cuffe; and, as it
would now seem, of treason, in the bargain. I would rather
hang ten such chaps, than one man like the Frenchman.”

“Well, it 's clear, Mr. Winchester, you do not bear
malice! Have you forgotten Porto Ferrajo, and the boats,
already? or do you love them that despitefully use you?”

“'T was all fair service, sir, and one never thinks anything
of that. I owe this Monsieur Yvard no grudge for
what he did; but, now it 's all fairly over, I rather like him
the better for it. But it 's a very different matter as to this
Bolt; a skulking scoundrel, who would let other men fight
his country's battles, while he goes a-privateering against
British commerce.”

“Ay, there 's the rub, Winchester! Are they his country's
battles?”

“Why we took him for an Englishman, sir, and we must
act up to our own professions, in order to be consistent.”

“And so hang an innocent man for a treason that he
could not commit?”

“Why, Captain Cuffe, do you believe the fellow's whining
story about his being a Yankee? If that be true, we have
done him so much injustice already, as to make his case a
very hard one. For my part, I look upon all these fellows
as only so many disaffected Englishmen, and treat them
accordingly.”

“That is a sure way to quiet one's feelings, Winchester;
but it 's most too serious when it comes to hanging. If Bolt
deserve any punishment, he deserves death; and that is a
matter about which one ought to be tolerably certain, before
he pushes things too far. I 've sometimes had my doubts
about three or four of our people's being Englishmen, after
all.”

“There can be no certainty in these matters, unless one
could carry a parish register for the whole kingdom, in his
ship, Captain Cuffe. If they are not Englishmen, why do
they not produce satisfactory proofs to show it? That is
but reasonable, you must allow, sir?”

“I don't know, Winchester; there are two sides to that
question, too. Suppose the King of Naples should seize

[figure description] Page 059.[end figure description]

you, here, ashore, and call on you to prove that you are not
one of his subjects?—How would you go to work to make
it out—no parish register being at hand?”

“Well, then, Captain Cuffe, if we are so very wrong, we
had better give all these men up, at once—though one of
them is the very best hand in the ship; I think it right to
tell you that, sir.”

“There is a wide difference, sir, between giving a man
up, and hanging him. We are short-handed as it is, and
cannot spare a single man. I 've been looking over your
station bills, and they never appeared so feeble before. We
want eighteen or nineteen good seamen to make them respectable
again; and, though this Bolt is no great matter,
as a seaman, he can turn his hand to so many things, that
he was as useful as the boatswain. In a word, we cannot
spare him; either to let him go, or to hang him; even were
the latter just.”

“I 'm sure, sir, I desire to do nothing unjust, and so act
your pleasure in the affair.”

“My pleasure is just this then, Winchester. We must
turn Bolt to duty. If the fellow is really an American, it
would be a wretched business even to flog him for desertion;
and as to treason, you know, there can be none without
allegiance. Nelson gives me a discretion, and so we 'll act
on the safe side, and just turn him over to duty again.
When there comes an opportunity, I 'll inquire into the facts
of his case, and if he can make out that he is not an Englishman,
why he must be discharged. The ship will be
going home in a year or two, when everything can be
settled fairly and deliberately. I dare say, Bolt will not
object to the terms.”

“Perhaps not, sir. Then there 's the crew, Captain
Cuffe.—They may think it strange, treason and desertion go
unpunished! These fellows talk and reason more than is
always known, aft.”

I 've thought of all that, Winchester. I dare say you
have heard of such a thing as a King's evidence?—Well,
here has Raoul Yvard been tried and found guilty as a spy;
Bolt having been a witness. A few remarks judiciously
made, may throw everything off on that tack; and appearances
will be preserved, so far as discipline is concerned.”

[figure description] Page 060.[end figure description]

“Yes, sir, that might be done, it 's true; but an uneasy
berth will the poor devil have of it, if the people fancy he
has been a King's evidence! Men of that class hate a
traitor worse than they do crime, Captain Cuffe, and they 'll
ride Bolt down like the main tack.”

“Perhaps not; and if they do, 'twill not be as bad as
hanging. The fellow must think himself luckily out of a
bad scrape, and thank God for all his mercies. You can
see that he suffers nothing unreasonable, or greatly out of
the way. So send an order to the master-at-arms to knock
the irons off the chap, and send him to duty, before you
turn in, Winchester.”

This settled the matter as to Ithuel, for the moment, at
least. Cuffe was one of those men who was indisposed to
push things too far, while he found it difficult to do his
whole duty. There was not an officer in the Proserpine
who had any serious doubts about the true country of Bolt,
though there was not one officer, among them all, who
would openly avow it. There was too much “granite”
about Ithuel to permit Englishmen long to be deceived,
and that very language on which the impressed man so
much prided himself, would have betrayed his origin, had
other evidence been wanting. Still there was a tenacity
about an English ship of war, in that day, that did not
easily permit an athletic hand to escape its grasp, when it had
once closed upon him. In a great and enterprising service,
like that of Great Britain, an esprit de corps existed in the
respective ships, which made them the rivals of each other,
and men being the great essentials of efficiency, a single
seaman was relinquished with a reluctance that must have
been witnessed, fully to be understood. Cuffe, consequently,
could not make up his mind to do full justice to Ithuel, while
he could not make up his mind to push injustice so far as
trial and punishment. Nelson had left him a discretion, as
has been said, and this he chose to use in the manner just
mentioned.

Had the case of the New Hampshire man been fairly
brought before the British Admiral, his discharge would
have been ordered without hesitation. Nelson was too far
removed from the competition of the separate ships, and
ordinarily under the control of too high motives, to be

[figure description] Page 061.[end figure description]

accessary to the injustice of forcibly detaining a foreigner
in his country's service; for it was only while under the
malign influence to which there has already been allusion,
that he ceased to be high-minded and just. Prejudiced he
was, and in some cases, exceedingly so; America standing
but little better in his eyes than France herself. For the
first of these antipathies he had some apology; since in
addition to the aversion that was naturally produced by the
history of the cis-atlantic Republic, accident had thrown him
in the way, in the West Indies, of ascertaining the frauds,
deceptions, and cupidities of a class of men that never exhibit
national character in its brightest and most alluring
colours. Still, he was too upright of mind, willingly to
countenance injustice, and too chivalrous to oppress. But
Ithuel had fallen into the hands of one who fell far short of
the high qualities of the Admiral, while, at the same time,
he kept clear of his more prominent weaknesses, and who
was brought within the sphere of the competition between
the respective ships and their crews.

Winchester, of course, obeyed his orders. He roused the
master-at-arms from his hammock, and directed him to
bring Ithuel Bolt to the quarter-deck.

“In consequence of what took place this morning,” said
the first-lieutenant, in a voice loud enough to be heard by all
near him, “Captain Cuffe has seen fit to order you to be
released, Bolt, and turned to duty again. You will know
how to appreciate this leniency, and will serve with greater
zeal than ever, I make no doubt. Never forget that you
have been with a yard-rope, as it might be, round your neck.
In the morning you will be stationed and berthed anew.”

Ithuel was too shrewd to answer. He fully understood the
reason why he escaped punishment, and it increased his
hopes of eventually escaping from the service itself. Still
he gagged a little at the idea of passing for one who peached—
or for a “State's-evidence” as he called it; that character
involving more of sin, in vulgar eyes, than the commission
of a thousand legal crimes. This gave Winchester no concern.
After dismissing his man, he gossiped a minute or
two with Yelverton, who had the watch, gaped once or twice
somewhat provokingly, and going below, was in a deep sleep
in ten minutes.

CHAPTER V.

“White as a white sail on a dusky sea,
When half the horizon 's clouded and half free,
Fluttering between the dun wave and the sky,
Is hope's last gleam in man's extremity.”
The Island.

[figure description] Page 062.[end figure description]

The dawning of day, on the morning which succeeded,
was a moment of great interest, on board the different English
ships which then lay off the Gulf of Salerno. Cuffe
and Lyon were called, according to especial orders left by
themselves, while even Sir Frederick Dashwood allowed
himself to be awakened, to hear the report of the officer of the
deck. The first was up quite half-an-hour before the light
appeared. He even went into the main-top, again, in order
to get as early and as wide a survey of the horizon as he
wished. Griffin went aloft with him, and, together they
stood leaning against the top-mast rigging, watching the
slow approach of those rays which gradually diffused themselves
over the whole of a panorama that was as bewitching
as the hour and the lovely accessories of an Italian landscape
could render it.

“I see nothing, in-shore,” exclaimed Cuffe, in a tone of
disappointment, when the light permitted a tolerable view of
the coast. “If she should be outside of us, our work will
be only half done!”

“There is a white speck close in with the land, sir,”
returned Griffin; “here, in the direction of those ruins, of
which our gentlemen that have been round in the boats to
look at, tell such marvels; I believe, however, it is only a
felucca or a sparanara. There is a peak to the sail that
does not look lugger-fashion.”

“What is this, off here at the north-west, Griffin?—Is it
too large for the le Few-Folly?”

“That must be the Terpsichore, sir. It 's just where she
ought to be, as I understand the orders; and, I suppose, Sir
Frederick has carried her there. But yonder 's a sail, in the

[figure description] Page 063.[end figure description]

northern board, which may turn out to be the lugger; she 's
fairly within Campanella, and is not far from the north shore
of the bay.”

“By George!”—that must be she; Monsieur Yvard has
kept her skulking round and about Amalfi, all this time!
Let us go down, and set everything that will draw, at once,
sir.”

In two minutes Griffin was on deck, hauling the yards,
and clearing away to make sail. As usual, the wind was
light at the southward, again, and the course would be nearly
before it. Studding-sail booms were to be run out, the sails
set, and the ship's head laid to the northward, keeping a
little to seaward of the chase. At this moment the Proserpine
had the Point of Piane, and the little village of Abate,
nearly abeam. The ship might have been going four knots
through the water, and the distance across the mouth of the
bay was something like thirty miles. Of course, eight hours
would be necessary to carry the frigate over the intervening
space, should the wind stand, as it probably would not, at
that season of the year. A week later, and strong southerly
winds might be expected, but that week was as interminable
as an age, for any present purpose.

Half-an-hour's trial satisfied all on the deck of the Proserpine,
that the chase was keeping off, like themselves, and
that she was standing towards the mountains of Amalfi.
Her progress, too, was about equal to that of the frigate, for,
dead before the wind, the latter ship was merely a good
sailer; her great superiority commencing only when she
brought the breeze forward of the beam. It had been supposed
that the stranger, when first seen, was about fifteen
miles distant, his canvass appearing both small and shapeless;
but some doubts now began to be entertained, equally
as to his rig, his size, and his distance. If a large or a lofty
vessel, of course he must be materially farther off, and if a
large or lofty vessel it could not be le Feu-Follet.

The other frigate took her cue from the Proserpine, and
stood across for the northern side of the gulf; a certain proof
that nothing was visible, from her mast-heads, to lead her
in any other direction. Two hours, however, satisfied all
on board the latter ship, that they were on a wrong scent,
and that the vessel to-leeward was their own consort, the

[figure description] Page 064.[end figure description]

sloop; Lyon having, in his eagerness to get the prize before
she could be seen from the other ships, carried the Ringdove
quite within the bay, and thus misled Cuffe and Sir Frederick.

“There can no longer be any doubt!” exclaimed the
captain of the Proserpine, dropping his glass, with vexation
too strongly painted in his manner to be mistaken; “that is
a ship; and, as you say, Winchester, it must be the Ringdove;
though what the devil Lyon is doing away in there with
her, unless he sees something close under the land, is more
than I can tell. As there is clearly nothing in this quarter,
we will stand on, and take a look for ourselves.”

This nearly destroyed the hope of success. The officers
began to suspect that their look-out on Campanella had been
deceived, and that what he had supposed to be a lugger, was,
in truth, a felucca, or perhaps a xebec; a craft which might
well be mistaken for a lugger, at the distance of a few
leagues. The error, however, was with those in the ship.
The officer sent upon the heights was a shrewd, practised
master's-mate, who knew everything about his profession,
that properly came within his line, and knew little else.
But for a habit of drinking, he would long since have been
a lieutenant, being, in truth, an older sailor than Winchester;
but, satisfied of his own infirmity, and coming from a
class in life in which preferment was viewed as a God-send,
rather than as a right, he had long settled down into the
belief that he was to live and die in his present station, thereby
losing most of the desire to rise. The name of this man was
Clinch. In consequence of his long experience, within the
circle of his duties, his opinion was greatly respected by his
superiors, when he was sober; and, as he had the precaution
not to be otherwise, when engaged on service, his weakness
seldom brought him into any serious difficulties. Cuffe, as
a last hope, had sent him up on the heights of Campanella,
with a perfect conviction that, if anything were really in
sight, he would not fail to see it. All this confidence, however,
had now ended in disappointment; and, half-an-hour
later, when it was announced to Cuffe, that “the cutter, with
Mr. Clinch, was coming down the bay towards them,” the
former even heard the name of his drunken favourite with
disgust. As was usual with him, when out of humour, he

[figure description] Page 065.[end figure description]

went below, as the boat drew near, leaving orders for her
officer to be sent down to him, the instant the latter got on
board. Five minutes later, Clinch thrust his hard-looking,
weather-beaten, but handsome red countenance in at the
cabin-door.

“Well, sir,” commenced the captain, on a tolerably high
key—“a d—d pretty wild-goose chase you 've sent us all
on, down here, into this bay! The southerly wind is failing,
already, and, in half-an-hour, the ships will be frying the pitch
off their decks, without a breath of air: when the wind does
come, it will come out at west, and bring us all four or five
leagues dead to leeward!”

Clinch's experience had taught him the useful man-of-war
lesson, to bow to the tempest, and not to attempt to brave it.
Whenever he was “rattled-down,” as he called it, he had
the habit of throwing an expression of surprise, comically
blended with contrition, into his countenance, that seemed to
say, “what have I done, now?”—or, “if I have done anything
amiss, you see how sorry I am for it.” He met his
irritated commander, on the present occasion, with this expression,
and it produced the usual effect of mollifying him,
a little.

“Well, sir — explain this matter, if you please,” continued
Cuffe, after a moment's hesitation.

“Will you please to tell me, sir, what you wish explained?”
inquired Clinch, throwing more surprise than
common, even, into his countenance.

“That is an extraordinary question, Mr. Clinch! I wish
the signal you made from yonder head-land explained, sir.
Did you not signal the ship, to say that you saw the le
Few-Folly down here, at the southward?”

“Well, sir, I 'm glad there was no mistake in the matter,”
answered Clinch, in a confident and a relieved manner. “I
was afraid, at first, Captain Cuffe, my signal had not been
understood.”

“Understood!—How could it be mistaken? You showed
a black ball, for `the lugger 's in sight.' You 'll not deny
that, I trust?”

“No, sir — one black ball, for `the lugger 's in sight.'
That 's just what I did show, Captain Cuffe.”

[figure description] Page 066.[end figure description]

“And three black balls together, for `she bears due south
from Capri.' What do you say to that?”

“All right, sir. Three black balls together, for `she
bears due south from Capri.' I didn't tell the distance,
Captain Cuffe, because Mr. Winchester gave me no signals
for that.”

“And these signals you kept showing every half-hour,
as long as it was light; even until the Proserpine was off.”

“All according to orders, Captain Cuffe, as Mr. Winchester
will tell you. I was to repeat every half-hour, as long
as the lugger was in sight, and the day lasted.”

“Ay, sir; but you were not ordered to send us after a
jack-o'-lantern, or to mistake some xebec or other, from
one of the Greek islands, for a light, handy French lugger.”

“Nor did I, Captain Cuffe, begging your pardon, sir. I
signalled the Few-Folly, and nothing else, I give you my
word for it.”

Cuffe looked hard at the master's-mate for half a minute,
and his ire insensibly lessened as he gazed.

“You are too old a seaman, Clinch, not to know what
you were about! If you saw the privateer, be good enough
to tell us what has become of her?”

“That is more than I can say, Captain Cuffe, though see
her I did; and that so plainly, as to be able to make out
her jigger, even. You know, sir, we shot away her jigger-mast
in the chase off Elba, and she got a new one that
steves for'rard uncommonly. I noticed that when we fell
in with her in the canal of Piombino; and seeing it again,
could not but know it. But there 's no mistaking the saucy
Folly, for them that has once seen her; and I am certain we
made her out, about four leagues to the southward of the
cape, at the time I first signalled.”

“Four leagues! — I had thought she must be at least
eight or ten, and kept off that distance, to get her in the net.
Why did you not let us know her distance?”

“Had no signals for that, Captain Cuffe.”

“Well, then, why not send a boat to tell us the fact?”

“Had no orders, sir. Was told by Mr. Winchester just
to signal the lugger and her bearings; and this, you must
own, Captain Cuffe, we did plain enough. Besides, sir—”

[figure description] Page 067.[end figure description]

“Well; besides what?” demanded the captain, observing
that the master's-mate hesitated.

“Why, sir, how was I to know that any one in the ship
would think a lugger could be seen eight or ten leagues?
That 's a long bit of water, sir; and it would take a heavy
ship's spars to rise high enough for such a sight.”

“The land you were on, Clinch, was much loftier than
any vessel's spars.”

“Quite true, sir; but not lofty enough for that, Captain
Cuffe. That I saw the Folly, I 'm as certain as I am of
being in this cabin.”

“What has become of her, then? — You perceive she is
not in the bay now.”

“I suppose, Captain Cuffe, that she stood in until near
enough for her purpose, and that she must have hauled off
the land, after night set in. There was plenty of room for
her to pass out to sea again between the two frigates, and
not be seen in the dark.”

This conjecture was so plausible, as to satisfy Cuffe; and
yet it was not the fact. Clinch had made le Feu-Follet,
from his elevated post, to the southward, as his signal had
said; and he was right in all his statements about her, until
darkness concealed her movements. Instead of passing out
of the Bay, as he imagined, however, she had hauled up
within a quarter of a league of Campanella, doubled that
point, brushed along the coast to the northward of it, fairly
within the Bay of Naples, and pushed out to sea, between
Capri and Ischia; going directly athwart the anchorage the
men-of-war had so recently quitted, in order to do so.

When Raoul quitted his vessel, he ordered her to stand
directly off the land, just keeping Ischia and Capri in view,
lying-to under her jigger. As this was low sail, and a lugger
shows so little aloft, it was a common expedient with
cruisers of that rig, when they wished to escape observation.
Monsieur Pintard, Raoul's first-lieutenant, had expected a
signal from his commander at the very spot where Clinch
had taken his station; but seeing none, he had swept along
the coast, after dark, in the hope of discovering his position
by the burning of a blue-light. Failing of this, however, he
went off the land again, in time to get an offing before the
return of day, and to save the wind. It was the boldness

[figure description] Page 068.[end figure description]

of the manœuvre, that saved the lugger; Lyon going out
through the pass between Capri and Campanella, about
twenty minutes before Pintard brushed close round the
rocks, under his jigger and jib only, anxiously looking out
for a signal from his captain. The Frenchmen saw the
sloop-of-war quite plainly, and, by the aid of their night-glasses,
ascertained her character; mistaking her, however,
for another ship, bound to Sicily or Malta; while their own
vessel escaped observation, owing to the little sail she carried,
the want of hamper, and her situation so near the land,
which gave her a back-ground of rocks. Clinch had not
seen the movements of the lugger after dark, in consequence
of his retiring to the village of St. Agata to seek lodgings,
as soon as he perceived that his own ship had gone to sea,
and left him and his boat's crew behind. The following
morning, when he made the ship to the southward, he pushed
off, and pulled towards his proper vessel, as related.

“Where did you pass the night, Clinch?” demanded the
captain, after they had discussed the probabilities of the lugger's
escape. “Not on the heights, under the canopy of
heaven?”

“On the heights, and under the great canopy that has
covered us both so often, Captain Cuffe; but with a good
Neapolitan mud-roof between it and my head. As soon as
it was dark, and I saw that the ship was off, I found a village
named St. Agata, that stands on the heights, just abeam
of those rocks they call the Sirens, and there we were well
berthed until morning.”

“You are lucky in bringing back all the boat's crew,
Clinch. You know it 's low-water with us as to men, just
now; and our fellows are not all to be trusted ashore, in a
country that is full of stone walls, good wine, and pretty
girls.”

“I always take a set of regular steady-ones with me,
Captain Cuffe; I have n't lost a man from a boat, these five
years.”

“You must have some secret, then, worth knowing; for
even the admirals sometimes lose their barge-men. I dare
say, now, yours are all married chaps, that hold on to their
wives, as so many sheet-anchors; they say that is often a
good expedient.”

[figure description] Page 069.[end figure description]

“Not at all, sir. I did try that, till I found that half the
fellows would run to get rid of their wives. The Portsmouth
and Plymouth marriages don't always bring large estates
with them, sir, and the bridegrooms like to cut adrift at the
end of the honey-moon. Don't you remember when we
were in the Blenheim together, sir, we lost eleven of the
launch's crew at one time; and nine of them turned out to
be vagabonds, sir, that deserted their weeping wives and
suffering families at home!”

“Now you mention it, I do remember something of the
sort; draw a chair, Clinch, and take a glass of grog. Tim,
put a bottle of Jamaica before Mr. Clinch. I have heard it
said that you are married yourself, my gallant master's-mate?”

“Lord, Captain Cuffe, that 's one of the young gentlemen's
stories! If a body believed all they say, the Christian
religion would soon get athwart-hawse, and mankind be
all adrift in their morals,” answered Clinch, smacking his
lips, after a very grateful draught. “We 've a regular set
of high-flyers, aboard this ship, at this blessed minute, Captain
Cuffe, sir, and Mr. Winchester has his hands full of
them! I often wonder at his patience, sir.”

“We were young once ourselves, Clinch, and ought to
be indulgent to the follies of youth. But, what sort of a
berth did you find last night, upon the rocks yonder?”

“Why, sir, as good as one can expect out of Old England.
I fell in with an elderly woman calling herself Giuntotardi—
which is regular-built Italian, isn't it, sir?”

“That it is — but, you speak the language, I believe,
Clinch?”

“Why, sir, I 've been drifting about the world so long,
that I speak a little of everything, finding it convenient
when I stand in need of victuals and drink. The old lady
on the hill and I overhauled a famous yarn between us, sir.
It seems she has a niece and a brother at Naples, who ought
to have been back night before last; and she was in lots of
tribulation about them, wanting to know if our ship had seen
anything of the rovers?”

“By George, Clinch, you were on soundings, there, had
you but known it! Our prisoner has been in that part of
the world, and we might get some clue to his manœuvres,

[figure description] Page 070.[end figure description]

by questioning the old woman closely. I hope you parted
good friends?”

“The best in the world, Captain Cuffe. No one that
feeds and lodges me well, need dread me as an enemy.”

“I 'll warrant it! That 's the reason you are so loyal,
Clinch.”

The hard, red face of the master's-mate worked a little,
and, though he could not well look all sorts of colours, he
looked all ways, but in his captain's eye. It was now ten
years since he ought to have been a lieutenant, having once
actually outranked Cuffe, in the way of date of service at
least; and his conscience told him two things, quite distinctly;
first, the fact of his long and weary probation; and second,
that it was, in a great degree, his own fault.

“I love His Majesty, sir,” Clinch observed, after giving
a gulp,” and I never lay anything that goes hard with myself
to his account. Still, memory will be memory; and
spite of all I can do, sir, I sometimes remember what I
might have been, as well as what I am. If His Majesty
does feed me, it is with the spoon of a master's-mate; and
if he does lodge me, it is in the cockpit.”

“I have been your shipmate, often, and for years at a
time,” answered Cuffe, good-naturedly, though a little in
the manner of a superior; “and no one knows your history
better. It is not your friends who have failed you, at need,
so much as a certain enemy, with whom you will insist on
associating, though he harms them most, who love him
best.”

“Ay, ay, sir — that can't be denied, Captain Cuffe; yet
it 's a hard life that passes altogether without hope.”

This was uttered with an expression of melancholy that
said more for Clinch's character than Cuffe had witnessed
in the man for years, and it revived many early impressions
in his favour. Clinch and he had once been messmates,
even; and, though years of a decided disparity in rank had
since interposed their barrier of etiquette and feeling, Cuffe
never could entirely forget the circumstance.

“It is hard, indeed, to live as you say, without hope,”
returned the captain; “but hope ought to be the last thing
to die. You should make one more rally, Clinch, before
you throw up, in despair.”

[figure description] Page 071.[end figure description]

“It's not so much for myself, Captain Cuffe, that I mind
it, as for some that live ashore. My father was as reputable
a tradesman as there was in Plymouth, and when he got
me on the quarter-deck, he thought he was about to make a
gentleman of me, instead of leaving me to pass a life, in a
situation that may be said to be even beneath what his own
was.”

“Now you undervalue your station, Clinch. The berth
of a master's-mate, in one of His Majesty's finest frigates, is
something to be proud of; I was once a master's-mate—
nay, Nelson has doubtless filled the same station. For that
matter, one of His Majesty's own sons may have gone through
the rank.”

“Ay, gone through it, as you say, sir,” returned Clinch,
with a husky voice. “It does well enough for them that go
through it, but it 's death to them that stick. It 's a feather
in a midshipman's cap to be rated a mate; but it 's no
honour to be a mate, at my time of life, Captain Cuffe.”

“What is your age, Clinch? — You are not much my
senior.”

“Your senior, sir!—The difference in our years is not as
great as in our rank, certainly, though I never shall see
thirty-two, again. But it 's not so much that, after all, as
the thoughts of my poor mother, who set her heart on seeing
me with His Majesty's commission in my pocket; and of
another, who set her heart on one that I 'm afraid was never
worthy her affection.”

“This is new to me, Clinch,” returned the captain, with
interest. “One so seldom thinks of a master's-mate marrying,
that the idea of your being in that way has never
crossed my mind, except in the manner of a joke.”

“Master's-mates have married, Captain Cuffe, and they
have ended in being very miserable. But Jane, as well as
myself, has made up her mind to live single, unless we can
see brighter prospects before us than what my present hopes
afford.”

“Is it quite right, Jack, to keep a poor young woman,
towing along in this uncertainty, during the period of life
when her chances for making a good connection are the
best?”

Clinch stared at his commander, until his eyes filled with

[figure description] Page 072.[end figure description]

tears. The glass had not touched his lips since the conversation
took its present direction; and the usual, hard, settled
character of his face was becoming expressive, once
more, with human emotions.

“It 's not my fault, Captain Cuffe,” he answered, in a
low voice; “it 's now quite six years, since I insisted on
her giving me up; but she wouldn't hear of the thing. A
very respectable attorney wished to have her, and I even
prayed her to accept his offer; and the only unkind glance
I ever got from her eye, was when she heard me make a
request that she told me sounded impiously, almost, to her
ears. She would be a sailor's wife, or die a maid.”

“The girl has unfortunately got some romantic notions
concerning the profession, Clinch, and they are ever the
hardest to be convinced of what is for their own good.”

“Jane Weston! — Not she, sir — There is not as much
romance about her, as in the fly-leaves of a prayer-book.
She is all heart, poor Jane; and how I came to get such a
hold of it, Captain Cuffe, is a great mystery to myself. I
certainly do not deserve half her affection, and I now begin
to despair of ever being able to repay her for it.”

Clinch was still a handsome man, though exposure and his
habits had made some inroads on a countenance, that by
nature was frank, open, and prepossessing. It now expressed
the anguish that occasionally came over his heart,
as the helplessness of his situation presented itself fully to
his mind. Cuffe's feelings were touched, for he remembered
the time when they were messmates, with a future before
them, that promised no more to the one than to the other,
the difference in the chances which birth afforded the captain,
alone excepted. Clinch was a prime seaman, and as
brave as a lion, too; qualities that secured to him a degree
of respect, that his occasional self-forgetfulness had never
entirely forfeited. Some persons thought him the most
skilful mariner the Proserpine contained; and, perhaps,
this was true, if the professional skill were confined strictly
to the handling of a ship, or to taking care of her on critical
occasions. All these circumstances induced Cuffe to enter
more closely into the master-mate's present distress than he
might otherwise have done. Instead of shoving the bottle
to him, however, as if conscious how much disappointed

[figure description] Page 073.[end figure description]

hope had already driven the other to its indiscreet use, he
pushed it gently aside, and taking his old messmate's hand,
with a momentary forgetfulness of the difference in rank, he
said in a tone of kindness and confidence, that had long
been strangers to Clinch's ears—

“Jack, my honest fellow, there is good stuff in you yet,
if you will only give it fair play. Make a manly rally,
respect yourself for a few months, and something will turn
up, that will yet give you your Jane, and gladden your old
mother's heart.”

There are periods in the lives of men, when a few kind
words, backed by a friendly act or two, might save thousands
of human beings from destruction. Such was the
crisis in the fate of Clinch. He had almost given up hope,
though it did occasionally revive in him, whenever he got a
cheering letter from the constant Jane, who pertinaciously
refused to believe anything to his prejudice, and religiously
abstained from all reproaches. But, it is necessary to understand
the influence of rank, on board a man-of-war, fully
to comprehend the effect, which was now produced on the
master's-mate, by the captain's language and manner.
Tears streamed out of the eyes of Clinch, and he grasped
the hand of his commander, almost convulsively.

“What can I do, sir?—Captain Cuffe, what can I do?”
he exclaimed. “My duty is never neglected; but there are
moments of despair, when I find the burthen too hard to be
borne, without calling upon the bottle for support.”

“Whenever a man drinks with such a motive, Clinch, I
would advise him to abstain altogether. He cannot trust
himself; and that which he terms his friend, is, in truth, his
direst enemy. Refuse your rations, even; determine to be
free. One week, nay, one day, may give a strength that
will enable you to conquer, by leaving your reason unimpaired.
Absence from the ship has accidentally befriended
you, for the little you have taken here, has not been sufficient
to do any harm. We are now engaged on a most
interesting duty, and I will throw service into your way,
that may be of importance to you. Get your name once
fairly in a despatch, and your commission is safe. Nelson
loves to prefer old tars; and nothing would make him
happier, than to be able to serve you. Put it in my power

[figure description] Page 074.[end figure description]

to ask it of him, and I 'll answer for the result. Something
may yet come out of your visit to the cottage of this woman,
and do you be mindful to keep yourself in fortune's way.”

“God bless you, Captain Cuffe — God bless you, sir,”—
answered Clinch, nearly choked,—“I 'll endeavour to do as
you wish.”

“Remember Jane and your mother. With such a woman
dependent for her happiness on his existence, a man must
be a brute, not to struggle hard.”

Clinch groaned, for Cuffe probed his wound deep; though
it was done with an honest desire to cure. After wiping
the perspiration from his face, and writhing on his chair,
however, he recovered a little of his self-command, and became
comparatively composed.

“If a friend could only point out the way by which I
might recover some of the lost ground,” he said, “my gratitude
to him would last as long as life, Captain Cuffe.”

“Here is an opening then, Clinch. Nelson attaches as
much importance to our catching this lugger as he ever did
to falling in with a fleet. The officer who is serviceable on
this occasion may be sure of being remembered, and I will
give you every chance in my power. Go, dress yourself in
your best; make yourself look as you know you can; then
be ready for boat service. I have some duty for you now,
which will be but the beginning of good luck, if you only
remain true to your mother, to Jane, and to yourself.”

A new life was infused into Clinch. For years he had
been overlooked; apparently forgotten, except when thorough
seamanship was required; and even his experiment
of getting transferred to a vessel commanded by an old
messmate had seemingly failed. Here was a change, however,
and a ray, brighter than common, shone athwart the
darkness of his future. Even Cuffe was struck with the
cheerfulness of his countenance, and the alacrity of the
master's-mate's movements, and he reproached himself with
having so long been indifferent to the best interests of one
who certainly had some claims on his friendship. Still,
there was nothing unusual in the present relations between
these old messmates. Favoured by family and friends,
Cuffe had never been permitted to fall into despondency, and
had pursued his career successfully and with spirit; while

[figure description] Page 075.[end figure description]

the other, unsupported, and failing of any immediate opportunity
for getting ahead, had fallen into evil ways, and come
to be, by slow degrees, the man he was. Such instances as
the latter, are of not unfrequent occurrence even in a marine
in which promotion is as regular as our own, though it is
rare indeed that a man recovers his lost ground, when placed
in circumstances so trying.

In half an hour Clinch was ready, dressed in his best.
The gentlemen of the quarter-deck saw all these preparations
with surprise; for, of late, the master's-mate had seldom
been seen in that part of the ship at all. But, in a
man-of-war, discipline is a matter of faith, and no one presumed
to ask questions. Clinch was closeted with the
Captain for a few minutes, received his orders, and went
over the ship's side with a cheerful countenance, actually
entering the Captain's gig, the fastest rowing boat of the
ship. As soon as seated, he shoved off, and held his way
towards the point of Campanella, then distant about three
leagues. No one knew whither he was bound, though all
believed it was on duty that related to the lugger, and duty
that required a seaman's judgment. As for Cuffe, his manner,
which had begun to be uneasy and wandering, became
more composed when he saw his old messmate fairly off,
and that too, at a rate which would carry him even to
Naples, in the course of a few hours should his voyage
happen to be so long.