As Raoul and Ithuel had been at work, while time was lost in doubt in and around the ship, they had got about three hundred yards the start of even Yelverton.  Their boat pulled unusually well; and being intended for only two oars, it might be deemed full manned, with two as vigorous hands in it as those it had.  Still, it was not a match for the second gig, and the four chosen men who composed its crew, which was the boat taken by Yelverton, in the hurry of the moment.  In a pull of a mile and a half, the yawl was certain to be overtaken; and the practiced ears of Raoul soon assured him of the fact.  His own oars were muffled.  He determined to profit:  by the circumstance, and turn aside, in the hope that his fleet pursuers would pass him unseen.  A sheer was accordingly given to the boat, and instead of pulling directly toward the land the fugitives inclined to the westward; the sea appearing the most obscure in that direction, on account of the proximity of Capri, This artifice was completely successful.  Yelverton was so eager in the chase, that he kept his eyes riveted before him, fancying from time to time that he saw the boat ahead, and he passed within a hundred and fifty yards of the yawl, without in the least suspecting her vicinity.  Raoul and Ithuel ceased rowing, to permit this exchange of position, and the former had a few sarcastic remarks on the stupidity of his enemies, as some relief to the feelings of the moment.  None of the English had muffled oars.  On the contrary, the sounds of the regular man-of-war jerks were quite audible in every direction; but so familiar were they to the ears of the Proserpines, that the crews of the two boats that came next after Yelverton actually followed the sounds of his oars, under the belief that they were in the wake of the fugitives.  In this manner, then, Raoul suffered three of the five boats to pass ahead of him.  The remaining two were so distant as not to be heard; and when those in advance were sufficiently distant, he and Ithuel followed them, with a leisurely stroke, reserving themselves for any emergency that might occur.

It was a fair race between the gig and the two cutters that pursued her.  The last had the sounds of the former’s oars in the ears of their crews to urge them to exertion, it being supposed they came from the strokes of the pursued; while Yelverton was burning with the desire to outstrip those who followed, and to secure the prize for himself.  This made easy work for those in the yawl, which was soon left more than a cable’s length astern.

“One would think, Ghita,” said Raoul, laughing, though he had the precaution to speak in an undertone—­“one would think that your old friends, the vice-governatore and the podesta, commanded the boats in-shore of us, were it not known that they are this very moment quarrelling about the fact whether there is such a place as Elba on this great planet of ours or not.”

“Ah!  Raoul, remember the last dreadful eight-and-forty hours I do not stop to trifle until we are once more fairly beyond the power of your enemies.”