e party himself can make us."

"Confession, Signore!"

"Si, bella Ghita; confession--your boatman--your man of Capri--your
lazzarone confesses himself to be neither more nor less than the
commander of that worker of iniquity, le Feu-Follet."

"Does le Feu-Follet do more than other cruisers of the enemy?"--but
Ghita felt she was getting to be indiscreet, and she ceased.

"I do believe, Winchester," said Cuffe, "that this is the very girl, and
yonder is the very old man who came into Nelson's cabin to-day with
something to say about the poor prince who was executed this afternoon!"

"What could such people have in common with the unfortunate Caraccioli?"

"Sure enough--yet these are the people. The Queen of the Fleet--our Lady
Admiraless--had it all to herself; and what passed between them, in
Italian, I know no more than if it had been in Greek. She never told
_me_, you may rest assured; and, from the look of her eye, I question a
good deal if she ever told Nelson."

"I wish to heaven his lordship would cut adrift from his moorings
alongside that craft, Captain Cuffe. I do assure you, sir, the fleet
begins to talk loudly on the subject;--was it any other man, there'd be
the devil to pay about it--but we can all stand a good deal from Nelson
and Bronte."

"Well--well--let every man father his own children: you ought to be
quiet, Winchester, for he asked very kindly about your hurt to-day, and
would have sent you aboard some knick-knack or other for the stomach,
but I told him you were all a-tanto again and at duty. What between his
head and his arm and his eye, he's got to be such a hulk himself that he
thinks every wounded man a sort of a relation. I should not complain,
however, if the small-pox could lay hold of that beauty."

"This has been a bad day's work for England, depend on it, Captain
Cuffe!"

"Well, if it has, St. Vincent and the Nile were _good_ days' works; and
we'll let one balance the other. Inquire of this young woman, Mr.
Griffin, if I had not the pleasure of seeing her to-day on board the
Foudroyant?"

The question was put as desired, and Ghita quietly but unhesitatingly
answered in the affirmative.

"Then ask her to explain how she happened to fall into the company of
Raoul Yvard?"

"Signori," said Ghita, naturally, for she had nothing to conceal on this
point, "we live on Monte Argentaro, where my uncle is the keeper of the
Prince's towers. You know, we have much to fear from the barba