There was a scene of lively congratulation, and of even pleasing emotion, on the deck of the lugger, when Raoul so unexpectedly appeared.  He had every quality to make himself beloved by his men.  Brave, adventurous, active, generous, and kind-hearted, his character rendered him a favorite to a degree that was not common even among the people of that chivalrous nation.  The French mariner will bear familiarity better than his great rival and neighbor, the Englishman; and it was natural with our hero to be frank and free with all, whether above him or below him in condition.  The temperaments to be brought into subjection were not as rude and intractable as those of the Anglo-Saxon, and the off-hand, dashing character of Raoul was admirably adapted to win both the admiration and the affections of his people.  They now thronged about him without hesitation or reserve, each man anxious to make his good wishes known, his felicitations heard.

“I have kept you playing about the fire, camarades,” said Raoul, affected by the proofs of attachment he received; “but we will now take our revenge.  There are English boats in chase of me, at this moment, under the land; we will try to pick up one or two of them, by way of letting them know there is still such a vessel as le Feu-Follet.”

An exclamation of pleasure followed; then an old quartermaster, who had actually taught his commander his first lessons in seamanship, shoved through the crowd, and put his questions with a sort of authority.

“Mon capitaine” he said, “have you been near these English?”

“Aye, Benoit; somewhat nearer than I could wish.  To own the truth, the reason you have not sooner seen me was, that I was passing my time on board our old friend, la Proserpine.  Her officers and crew would not lose my company, when they had once begun to enjoy it.”

“Peste!—­mon cher capitaine—­were you a prisoner?”

“Something of that sort, Benoit.  At least, they had me on a grating, with a rope round the neck, and were about to make me swing off, as a spy, when a happy gun or two from Nelson, up above there, at the town, ordered them to let me go below.  As I had no taste for such amusements, and wanted to see mon cher Feu-Follet, Etooelle and I got into the yawl, and left them; intending to return and be hanged when we can find nothing better to do.”

This account required an explanation, which Raoul gave in a very few words, and then the crew were directed to go to their stations, in order that the lugger might be properly worked.  The next minute the sails were filled on the larboard tack, as before, and le Feu-Follet again drew ahead, standing in for the cliffs.

“There is a light in motion near Capri, man capitaine” observed the first lieutenant; “I suppose it to be on board some enemy.  They are plenty as gulls about this bay.”

“You are very right, Monsieur.  ’Tis la Proserpine; she shows the light for her boats.  She is too far to leeward to meddle with us, however, and we are pretty certain there is nothing between her and the ships off the town that can do us any harm.  Are all our lights concealed?  Let them be well looked to, monsieur.”