As le Feu-Follet was now in dangerous proximity to three cruisers of the enemy, the moment was one that called for decision.  Fortunately, the positions of the English vessels were known to Raoul, a circumstance that lessened the danger, certainly; but it would not do to continue long within a league of their anchorage, with the risk of the land breezes failing.  As yet the darkness, and the shadows of the land, concealed the privateer, and her commander determined, if not literally to make hay while the sun shone, at least to profit by its absence.  With this view, then, he ordered the lugger hove-to, the boat of Clinch hauled to the lee gangway, and the prisoners to be all brought on deck; the common men in the waist, and the master’s mate aft.

“Here I must lose the pleasure of your company, Monsieur Clinch,” said Raoul, with a courtesy that may almost be termed national.  “We are quite as near votre belle Proserpine as is safe, and I long for notre belle France, The wind is fair to take us off the coast, and two hours will carry us out of sight, even were it noonday.  You will have the complaisance to make my duty to Monsieur Cuffe—­oui, pardie! and to ces braves Italiens, who are so much ze amis of Sir Smees! Touchez-la.”

Raoul laughed, for his heart was light, and sundry droll conceits danced through his brain.  As Clinch, the whole was Greek to him, with the exception that he understood it was the intention of the French to take their vessel off the coast, a circumstance that he was not sorry to learn, though he would have given so much, a few hours earlier, to have known where to find her.  Raoul’s generosity had worked a revolution in his feelings, however, and nothing was further from his wishes, now, than to be employed against the celebrated privateersman.  Still, he had a duty to perform to the service of which he was a member, another to Jane, and a last to himself.

“Captain Yvard,” said the master’s-mate, taking the other’s offered hand, “I shall never forget this kindness on your part; it comes at a most fortunate moment for me.  My happiness in this world, and perhaps in the world to come”—­an ejaculation of “bah!” involuntarily escaped the listener—­“depended on my being at liberty.  I hold it to be fair, however, to tell you the whole truth.  I must do all I can to capture or destroy this very lugger, as well as any other of the king’s enemies, as soon as I am my own master again.”

“Bon!—­I like your frankness, Monsieur Clinch, as much as I like your humanity.  I always look for a brave enemy when un Anglais comes against me; if you are ever in the number, I shall expect nothing worse.”

“It will be my duty, Captain Yvard, to report to Captain Cuffe where I found the Folly, where I left her, and where I think she is steering.  Even your armament, crew, and all such little particulars, I shall be questioned on; I must answer honestly.”