uppose a man like him does not know north
from south."

Raoul inwardly muttered a malediction on all priests; a class of men
which, rightly enough, he believed to be united in their hostility to
France. But it would not do to express this in his assumed character;
and he affected to listen, as one of his class ought to give ear to a
fact that came from his spiritual father.

"North from south, eccellenza! Monsignore knows a great deal more than
that, if the truth were said; though, I suppose, these noble signori are
acquainted with the right reverend father's great infirmity?"

"Not we--none of us, I fancy, ever had the honor to be in his company.
Surely, fellow, your bishop is a man of truth?"

"Truth!--Yes, eccellenza, so true is he that if he were to tell me that
the thing I saw myself had not and could not happen, I should rather
believe Monsignore than believe my own eyes. Still, Signori, eyes are
_something_; and as the right reverend father has _none_, or what are as
bad as none, for any use they can be in looking at a vessel half a mile
off, he may not always see what he thinks he sees. When Monsignore tells
us that so and so is Gospel, we all believe it, for we know the time has
been when he _could_ read; but we never think of going to his door to
ask which way a ship is steering, having the use of our own senses."

"Can this fellow tell us the truth, Griffin?" asked Cuffe, a good deal
mystified by Raoul's artifice and his assumed simplicity. "If so, we
shall be going exactly on the wrong scent by hauling round Campanella
and running into the Gulf of Salerno. The French hold Gaeta yet, and it
is quite likely that Master Yvard may wish to keep a friendly port open
under his lee!"

"You forget, Captain Cuffe, that his lordship has sent a light cruiser
already up that way, and le Feu-Follet would hardly dare to show herself
near one of our regular fellows--"

"Umph!--I don't know that, Mr. Griffin; I don't exactly know that. The
Proserpine is a 'regular fellow,' after a fashion, at least; and the
Few-Folly has dared to show herself to _her_. Jack-o'-Lantern--D--n me,
Griffin, but I think she is well named now, I'd rather chase a
jack-o'-lantern in the Island of Sicily than be hunting after such a
chap;--first he's here; then he's there; and presently he's nowhere. As
for the sloop, she's gone south, at my suggestion, to look into the bays
along the Calabrian coast. I told Nelson I wanted another ship; for,