“It is too much for any sight to detairmine, at this distance, and that before the sun is risen; but, by having a glass ready, we shall soon know.  Five minutes will bring us the Great Luminary, as our minister used to call him.”

Ithuel had descended from the bulwark while speaking; and he now went aft in quest of a glass, returning to his old station, bringing two of the instruments; one of which he handed to his commander, while he kept the other himself.  In another minute both had levelled their glasses at the stranger, whom each surveyed attentively, for some time, in profound silence.

“Pardie!” exclaimed Raoul, “that ensign is the tri-color, or my eyes are untrue to my own country.  Let me see, Etooell; what ship of forty-two, or forty-four, has the republic on this coast?”

“Not that, Monsieur Yvard,” answered Ithuel, with a manner so changed, and an emphasis so marked, as at once to draw his companion’s attention from the frigate to his own countenance; “not that, Monsieur Capitaing.  It is not easy for a bird to forget the cage in which he was shut up for two years; if that is not the accursed Proserpine, I have forgotten the cut of my own jib!”

“La Proserpine!” repeated Raoul, who was familiar with his shipmate’s adventures, and did not require to be told his meaning; “if you are not mistaken, Etooell, le Feu-Follet needs put her lantern under a shade.  This is only a forty, if I can count her ports.”

“I care nothing for ports or guns; it is the Proserpine; and the only harm I wish her is, that she were at the bottom of the ocean.  The Proserpine, thirty-six, Captain Cuffe; though Captain Flog would have been a better name for him.  Yes, the Proserpine, thirty-six, Captain Cuffe, Heaven bless her!”

“Bah!—­this vessel has forty-four guns—­now I can see to count them; I make twenty-two of a side.”

“Aye, that’s just her measure—­a thirty-six on the list and by rate, and forty-four by count; twenty-six long eighteens below; twelve thirty-twos, carronades, on her quarter-deck; and four more carronades, with two barkers, for’ard.  She’d just extinguish your Jack-o’-Lantern, Monsieur Rule, at one broadside; for what are ten twelve-pound carronades, and seventy men, to such a frigate?”

“I am not madman enough, Etooell, to dream of fighting a frigate, or even a heavy sloop-of-war, with the force you have just mentioned; but I have followed the sea too long to be alarmed before I am certain oL my danger.  La Railleuse is just such a ship as that.”

“Hearken to reason, Monsieur Rule,” answered Ithuel earnestly; “La Railleuse, nor no other French frigate, would show her colors to an enemy’s port; for it would be uselessly telling her errand.  Now, an English ship might show a French ensign, for she always has it in her power to change it; and then she might be benefited by the cheat.  The Proserpine is French built, and has French legs, too, boots or no boots”—­here Ithuel laughed a little, involuntarily, but his face instantly became serious again—­“and I have heard she was a sister vessel of the other.  So much for size and appearance; but every shroud, and port, and sail, about yonder craft, is registered on my back in a way that no sponge will ever wash out.”