“When one does all for the best, Captain Cuffe, his mind ought to be at ease, and you could not possibly foresee what has happened.  Might not—­one wouldn’t like either—­but—­necessity is a hard master——­”

“Out with it, Griffin—­anything is better than suspense.”

“Well, sir, I was just thinking that possibly this young Italian girl might know something about the lugger, and, as she clearly loves the Frenchman, we should get a strong purchase on her tongue by means of her heart.”

Cuffe looked intently at his lieutenant for half a minute; then he shook his head in disapprobation.

“No, Griffin, no,” he said, “to this I never can consent.  As for this quibbling, equivocating Yankee, if Yankee he be, one wouldn’t feel many scruples of delicacy; but to probe the affections of a poor innocent girl in this way would be going too far.  The heart of a young girl should be sacred, under every circumstance.”

Griffin colored, and he bit his lip.  No one likes to be outdone, in the appearance of generosity, at least; and he felt vexed that he should have ventured on a proposition that his superior treated as unbecoming.

“Nevertheless, sir, she might think the lugger cheaply sold,” he said, with emphasis, “provided her lover’s life was what she got in exchange.  It would be a very different thing were we to ask her to sell her admirer, instead of a mere privateer.”

“No matter, Griffin.  We will not meddle with the private feelings of a young female, that chance has thrown into our hands.  As soon as we get near enough in with the land, I intend to let the old man take his boat, and carry his niece ashore.  That will be getting rid of them, at least, honorably and fairly.  God knows what is to become of the Frenchman.”

This terminated the conference.  Griffin went on deck, where duty now called him; and Cuffe sat down to re-peruse, for the ninth or tenth time, the instructions of the admiral.

CHAPTER XXII.

                              “I have no dread,
     And feel the curse to have no natural fear,
     Nor fluttering throb, that beats with hopes or wishes,
     Or lurking love of something on the earth”

     Manfred,

By this time the day had materially advanced, and there were grave grounds for the uneasiness which Cuffe began so seriously to feel.  All three of the ships were still in the Bay of Salerno, gathering in toward its northern shore, however; the Proserpine the deepest embayed, the Terpsichore and the Ringdove having hauled out toward Campanella, as soon as satisfied nothing was to be seen in-shore of them.  The heights which line the coast, from the immediate vicinity of the town of Salerno to the headland that ends near Capri, have long been celebrated, not only for their beauty and grandeur, but in connection with the lore of the middle ages.  As the Proserpine had never