“I should think there would be but little danger of the lugger’s departing in the night, Signor Tenente, her commander rather expressing an intention of passing several days with us; and it is this ease and confidence of his which cause me to think that he cannot be the person you take him for.  Why should Raoul Yvard and le Feu-Follet come into Porto Ferrajo at all?”

“No one knows:  it is the man’s habit:  and doubtless he has reasons for it.  ’Tis said he has even been in at Gibraltar; and it is certain he has cut several valuable store-ships out of our convoys.  There is an Austrian loading with iron, I perceive, in the harbor; probably he is waiting for her to fill up, and finds it easier to watch her at an anchor than by lying outside.”

“You naval gentlemen have ways known only to yourselves; all this may be so, but it seems an enigma to me.  Have you any other proofs of your own character, Signor Tenente, than the commission you have shown me? for Sir Smees, as I have been taught to call the commander of the lugger, has one, too, that has an air of as much authenticity as this you have shown; and he wears quite as English-looking a uniform; how am I to judge between you?”

“That difficulty has been foreseen, Signor Vice-governatore, and I come well provided with the necessary proofs.  I handed you my commission, as that is a document which, if wanting, might throw a distrust on all other proofs.  But here is a communication from your superior at Florence, recommending us to the kindness of the authorities of all the Tuscan ports, which you will readily understand.  Captain Cuffe has furnished me with other proofs, which you can look over at your leisure.”

Andrea Barrofaldi now set about a cautious and deliberate examination of the papers shown him.  They proved to be of a nature to remove every doubt; and it was not possible to distrust the party that presented them.  This was a great deal toward convicting the Signore Smees of imposition, though both the vice-governatore and the podesta were of opinion that Captain Cuffe might yet be mistaken as to the identity of the lugger.

“It is impossible, Signori,” answered the lieutenant; “we know every English cruiser in these seas, by name and description at least, and most of them by sight.  This is none; and everything about her, particularly her sailing, betrays her real name.  We hear there is a man in her who once belonged to our own ship, a certain Ithuel Bolt—­”

“Cospetto!” exclaimed the podesta.  “Then we must set down this Sir Smees, after all, for an arrant rogue; for this is the very man we met at Benedetta’s the past night.  An Americano, Signor Tenente, is he not?”

“Why, the fellow pretends to be some such thing,” answered the young man, coloring, for he was loath to confess the wrong that had been done the deserter; “but half the British seamen one falls in with nowadays call themselves Americans, in order to escape serving his Majesty.  I rather think this rascal is a Cornish or a Devonshire man; he has the twang and the nasal sing-song of that part of the island.  If an American, however, we have a better right to him than the French; speaking our language and being descended from a common ancestry and having a common character, it is quite unnatural for an American to serve any but the English.”