ation in an active cruising frigate. Still, some had a thought for
the prisoner's situation. Winchester was a humane man, and, to his
credit, he bore no malice for his own defeat and sufferings; while in
his capacity of first lieutenant it was in his power to do much toward
adding to the comfort of the condemned. He had placed the prisoner
between two open ports, where the air circulated freely, no trifling
consideration in so warm a climate, and had ordered a canvas bulkhead
to be placed around him, giving Raoul the benefit of a state-room for
his meditations at so awful a moment. His irons, too, had been removed
as useless; though care had been had to take away from the prisoner
everything by which he might attempt his own life. The probability of
his jumping through a port had been discussed between the first and
second lieutenants; but the sentry was admonished to be on his guard
against any such attempt, and little apprehension was felt, Raoul being
so composed and so unlikely to do anything precipitately. Then it would
be easy to pick him up, while the vessel moved so slowly. To own the
truth, too, many would prefer his drowning himself, to seeing him
swinging at a yard-arm.

In this narrow prison, then, Raoul passed the night and morning. It
would be representing him as more stoical than the truth, if we said he
was unmoved. So far from this, his moments were bitter, and his anguish
would have been extreme, were it not for a high resolution which
prompted him to die, as he fancied it, like _un Francais_. The numerous
executions by the guillotine had brought fortitude under such
circumstances into a sort of fashion, and there were few who did not
meet death with decorum. With our prisoner, however, it was still
different; for, sustained by a dauntless spirit, he would have faced the
great tyrant of the race, even in his most ruthless mood, with firmness,
if not with disdain. But, to a young man and a lover, the last great
change could not well approach without bringing with it a feeling of
hopelessness that, in the case of Raoul, was unrelieved by any cheering
expectations of the future. He fully believed his doom to be sealed, and
that less on account of his imaginary offence as a spy than on account
of the known and extensive injuries he had done to the English commerce.
Raoul was a good hater; and, according to the fashion of past times,
which we apprehend, in spite of a vast deal of equivocal philanthropy
that