he bounds of truth to say
that under none of the vicissitudes of war did there ever exist so
feverish an hour on board his Britannic Majesty's ship the Proserpine,
as the very period of which we are now writing. Eyes were constantly
turned toward the sun, and several of the young gentlemen collected on
the forecastle, with no other view than to be as near as possible to the
headland around which the boat of Clinch was expected to make her
reappearance, as behind it she had last been seen.

The zephyr had come at the usual hour, but it was light, and the ship
was so close to the mountains as to feel very little of its force. It
was different with the two other vessels. Lyon had gone about in time to
get clear of the highest mountains, and his lofty sails took enough of
the breeze to carry him out to sea, three or four hours before; while,
the Terpsichore, under Sir Frederick Dashwood, had never got near enough
in with the land to be becalmed at all. Her head had been laid to the
southwest, at the first appearance of the afternoon wind; and that
frigate was now hull-down to seaward--actually making a free wind of it,
as she shaped her course up between Ischia and Capri. As for the
Proserpine, when the bell struck three in the first dog-watch, she was
just abeam of the celebrated little islets of the Sirens, the western
breeze now beginning to die away, though, getting more of it, the ship
was drawing ahead faster than she had been since the turn of the day.

Three bells in the first dog-watch indicate the hour of half-past five.
At that season of the year, the sun sets a few minutes past six. Of
course there remained but little more than half an hour, in which to
execute the sentence of the law. Cuffe had never quitted the deck, and
he actually started when he heard the first sound of the clapper.
Winchester turned toward him, with an inquiring look; for everything had
been previously arranged between them; he received merely a significant
gesture in return. This, however, was sufficient. Certain orders were
privately issued. Then there appeared a stir among the foretop-men and
on the forecastle, where a rope was rove at the fore-yard-arm, and a
grating was rigged for a platform--unerring signs of the approaching
execution.

Accustomed as these hardy mariners were to brave dangers of all sorts,
and to witness human suffering of nearly every degree, a feeling of
singular humanity had come over the whole crew. Raoul was t