friend--nay, I will go further, and say I rejoiced, for
it seemed to me you passed so near the island just to let some whom you
knew to be on it understand you had not forgotten them; but when you
came into the bay, I thought you mad!"

"Mad I should have been, dearest Ghita, had I lived longer without
seeing you. What are these _miserables_ of Elbans, that I should fear
them! They have no cruiser--only a few feluccas--all of which are not
worth the trouble of burning. Let them but point a finger at us, and we
will tow their Austrian polacre out into the bay, and burn her before
their eyes. Le Feu-Follet deserves her name; she is here, there, and
everywhere, before her enemies suspect her."

"But her enemies suspect her now, and you cannot be too cautious. My
heart was in my throat a dozen times, while the batteries were firing at
you this evening."

"And what harm did they? they cost the Grand Duke two cartridges, and
two shot, without even changing the lugger's course! You have seen too
much of these things, Ghita, to be alarmed by smoke and noise."

"I have seen enough of these things, Raoul, to know that a heavy shot,
fired from these heights, would have gone through your little
Feu-Follet, and, coming out under water, would have sunk you to the
bottom of the Mediterranean."

"We should have had our boats, then," answered Raoul Yvard, with an
indifference that was not affected, for reckless daring was his vice,
rather than his virtue; "besides, a shot must first hit before it can
harm, as the fish must be taken before it can be cooked. But enough of
this, Ghita; I get quite enough of shot, and ships, and sinkings, in
everyday life, and, now I have at last found this blessed moment, we
will not throw away the opportunity by talking of such matters--"

"Nay, Raoul, I can think of nothing else, and therefore can talk of
nothing else. Suppose the vice-governatore should suddenly take it into
his head to send a party of soldiers to le Feu-Follet, with orders to
seize her--what would then be your situation?"

"Let him; and I would send a boat's crew to his palazzo, here"--the
conversation was in French, which Ghita spoke fluently, though with an
Italian accent--"and take him on a cruise after the English and his
beloved Austrians! Bah!--the idea will not cross his constitutional
brain, and there is little use in talking about it. In the morning, I
will send my prime minister, mon Barras, mon Carnot, mon Cambaceres