The stranger drew near fast; when his outlines became visible, there was no mistaking them.  The two enormous lugs, the little jigger, the hull almost awash, and the whole of the fairy form, came mistily into view, as the swift bird assumes color and proportion, while it advances out of the depth of the void.  The vessel was but a hundred yards distant; in another minute she would be past.

“Vive la Republique!” said Raoul, distinctly, though he feared to trust his voice with a loud hail.

Again the canvas flapped, and the trampling of feet was heard on the lugger’s deck; then she came sweeping into the wind, within fifty feet of the yawl.  Raoul watched the movement; and by the time her way was nearly lost, he was alongside, and had caught a rope.  At the next instant, he was on board her.

Raoul trod the deck of his lugger again with the pride of a monarch as he ascends his throne.  Certain of her sailing qualities, and confident of his own skill, this gallant seaman was perfectly indifferent to the circumstance that he was environed by powerful enemies.  The wind and the hour were propitious, and no sensation of alarm disturbed the exultation of that happy moment.  The explanations that passed between him and his first lieutenant, Pintard, were brief but distinct.  Le Feu-Follet had kept off the land, with her sails lowered, a trim in which a vessel of her rig and lowness in the water would not be visible more than five or six miles, until sufficient time had elapsed, when she was taken into the Gulf of Salerno, to look for signals from the heights of St. Agata.  Finding none, she went to sea again, as has been stated, sweeping along the coast, in the hope of falling in with intelligence.  Although she could not be seen by her enemies, she saw the three cruisers who were on the lookout, and great uneasiness prevailed on board concerning the fates of the absentees.  On the afternoon of that day, the lugger was carried close in with the northwest side of Ischia, which island she rounded at dusk, seemingly intending to anchor at Baiae, a harbor seldom without allied cruisers.  As the wind came off the land, however, she kept away, and, passing between Procida and Mysenum, she came out into the Bay of Naples, about three hours before meeting with Raoul, with the intention of examining the whole of the opposite coast, in search of the yawl.  She had seen the light at the gaff of the Proserpine, and, at first, supposed it might be a signal from the missing boat.  With a view to make sure of it, the lugger had been kept away until the night-glasses announced a ship; when she was hauled up on a wind, and had made two or three successive half-boards, to weather the point where her captain lay concealed; the Marina Grande of Sorrento being one of the places of rendezvous mentioned by our hero, in his last instructions.