Cuffe seized Raoul’s hand, and even a tear escaped him, as he squeezed it warmly.

“This has been a d—­d miserable business, Griffin,” said the captain, as soon as he could speak without betraying weakness, “and one no man will ever find me employed in again, though a fleet as large as that up in the Bay yonder were the price.”

“I never thought it would succeed, sir; and, to say the truth, I never hoped it would.  You’ll excuse me, Captain Cuffe, but we English don’t give the continentals exactly the credit they deserve, and particularly the French.  I thought it wouldn’t do, from the first.”

Cuffe now repeated his apologies; and after a few expressions of friendly esteem on both sides, Raoul returned to his little room, declining the captain’s offer to occupy one of the cabin state-rooms.  Griffin was soon back again; then the conversation was resumed between the two officers.

“This is altogether a most painful business, Griffin,” observed Cuffe, “There is no doubt that Monsieur Yvard is technically a spy, and guilty, according to the forms of law; but I entertain not the smallest doubt of the truth of his whole story.  This Ghita Caraccioli, as the girl calls herself, is the very picture of truth; and was actually in Nelson’s cabin the day before yesterday, under circumstances that leave no doubt of the simplicity and truth of her character, while every part of the tale corresponds with the other.  Even the veechy, and this pursy old podesta, confirm the account; for they have seen Ghita in Porto Ferrajo, and begin to think the Frenchman came in there solely on her account.”

“I make no doubt, Captain Cuffe, that Lord Nelson will give a respite, or even a pardon, were the facts fairly laid before him,” observed Griffin, who felt a generous interest in preserving the life of Raoul, the very man he had endeavored to destroy by fire only a few weeks before; but such is the waywardness of man, and such are the mixed feelings generated by war.

“This is the most serious part of the affair, Griffin.  The sentence is approved; with an order that it shall be carried into effect this very day, between the hours of sunrise and sunset; while here it is already noon, and we are to the southward of Campanella, and so distant from the flag-ship as to put signals out of the question.”

Griffin started; all the grave difficulties of the case glancing upon his mind in a moment.  An order, according to the habits of the service, and more especially an order of this serious character, was not to be questioned; yet here was a dilemma in which there appeared no means of relief.

“Good God, Captain Cuffe, how unlucky!  Cannot an express be sent across by land, so as yet to reach the flag-ship in time?”

“I have thought of that, Griffin, and Clinch has gone precisely on that errand.”

“Clinch!  Pardon me, sir; but such a duty requires a very active and sober officer!”