“Fear nothing,” called out Griffin, in Italian—­“we intend to offer you a tow.  Stand by and catch the line—­Heave!”

A small rope was thrown; and, falling directly across Ithuel’s head, that person could do no less than seize it.  With all his detestation of the English in general, and of this vessel in particular, the man-of-all-work had the labor-saving propensity of his countrymen; and it struck him as a good thing to make a “king’s ship” aid an enemy’s privateer by accepting the offer.  As he used the line with proper dexterity, the yawl was soon towing on the quarter of the frigate; Raoul taking the helm and giving the boat the sheer necessary to prevent her dragging in alongside.  This was a change so sudden and so totally unexpected that Ghita murmured her disapprobation, lest it should lead to a discovery of the true character of her companions.

“Fear nothing, dearest,” answered Raoul, “they cannot suspect us; and we may learn something useful by being here.  At all events, le Feu-Follet is safe from their designs, just at this moment.”

“Are you boatmen of Capri?” called out Griffin, who stood on the taffrail of the ship, with Cuffe and the two Italians near by; the first dictating the questions his lieutenant put.

“S’nore, si,” answered Raoul, adopting the patois of the country as well as he could and disguising his deep mellow voice by speaking on a high shrill key.  “Boatmen of Capri, that have been to Napoli with wine, and have been kept out later than we intended by the spectacle at the yard-arm of the Minerva.  Cospetto! them signori make no more of a prince than we do of a quail in the season, on our little island.  Pardon me, dearest Ghita; but we must throw dust into their eyes.”

“Has any strange sail been seen about your island within the last twenty-four hours?”

“The bay is full of strange sail, S’nore; even the Turks coming to see us, since the last trouble with the French.”

“Aye—­but the Turks are now your allies, like us English.  Have you seen any other strangers?”

“They tell me there are ships from the far north, too, S’nore, off the town.  Russians, I believe, they call them.”

“They, too, are allies; but I mean enemies.  Has there not been a lugger seen off your island within the last day or two—­a lugger of the French?”

“Si—­si—­I know what you mean now, S’nore; there has been a vessel like that you mention off the island; for I saw her with my own eyes—­si—­si.  It was about the twenty-third hour last evening—­a lugger, and we all said she must be French by her wicked looks.”

“Raoul!” said Ghita, as if reproaching him for an indiscretion.

“This is the true way to befog them,” answered the young man; “they have certainly heard of us; and by seeming to tell a little truth frankly it will give me an opportunity of telling more untruth.”

“Ah, Raoul, it is a sad life that renders untruths necessary!”