“What say you, Signor Vito Viti?” demanded Andrea; “you have been present at the interviews with Sir Smees.”

“That we have been deceived by one of the most oily-tongued rogues that ever took in honest men, if we have been deceived at all, vice-governatore.  Last evening I would have believed this; but since the escape and return of the lugger I could have sworn that we had an excellent friend and ally in our bay.”

“You had your signals, Signor Tenente; and that is proof of amity and understanding.”

“We made our number when we saw the lugger with an English ensign set, for we did not suppose a Frenchman would be quietly lying in a Tuscan port; but the answer we got was nonsense; and then we remembered to have heard that this Raoul Yvard was in the habit of playing such tricks all along the Italian coast.  Once on the scent, we were not the men to be easily thrown off it.  You saw the chase and know the result.”

“There must be some error in all this!  Would it not be well, Signore, to see the commander of the lugger—­or to go on board of her and satisfy yourself with your own eyes of the truth or falsehood of your surmises?  Ten minutes might clear up everything.”

“Your pardon, Signor Vice-governatore; were I to trust myself on board le Feu-Follet, I might remain a prisoner until a peace was made; and I have yet two steps to gain before I can afford that risk.  Then as to letting Yvard know of my presence here, it would just give him the alarm, and cause us to lose the bird before we can spring the net.  My orders are positive, not to let any one but the authorities of the island know of my visit or its object.  All we ask of you is to detain the lugger until morning; then we will see to it that she will never trouble the Italian coast again.”

“Nay, Signore, we have guns of our own and could easily dispose of so small a vessel, once assured of her being an enemy,” returned the vice-governatore, with a little pride and loftiness of manner; “convince us of that fact, and we’ll sink the lugger at her anchors.”

“That is just what we do not wish you to do, Signore,” answered the lieutenant, with interest.  “From what passed this morning, Captain Cuffe has thought it probable that Monsieur Yvard, for some reason best known to himself, would come back here as soon as he was rid of us, or that, finding himself on the south side of the island, he might put into Porto Longone; and, had I not met him here, I was to get a horse and ride across to the latter place and make my arrangements there.  We wish by all means to get possession of the lugger, which, in smooth water, is the fastest craft in the Mediterranean, and would be of infinite service to us.  We think the Proserpine would prove too much for her, blowing fresh; but in moderate weather she will go six feet to our five.  Now if you open on her she will either escape or be sunk; for Raoul Yvard is not a man to strike to a town.  All I ask is to be permitted to make night-signals, for which I am prepared, as soon as the frigate approaches, and that you will throw all the delays, by means of forms and permits, in the way of the Frenchman’s sailing, until to-morrow morning.  We will answer for the rest.”