"Many think, and say, you are Frenchmen, and that the English flag is
only a disguise."

"If that be all, we must bear the infamy," answered Raoul Yvard,
laughing. "Why, this is just what we are to a man, a single American
excepted, who is an excellent fellow to make out British commissions,
and help us to a little English when harder pushed than common; and why
should we be offended, if the good inhabitants of Porto Ferrajo take us
for what we are?"

"Not offended, Raoul, but endangered. If the vice-governatore gets this
notion, he will order the batteries to fire upon you, and will destroy
you as an enemy."

"Not he, Ghita. He is too fond of le Capitaine Smeet', to do so cruel a
thing; and then he must shift all his guns, before they will hurt _le
Feu-Follet_ where she lies. I never leave my little Jack-o'-Lantern[1]
within reach of an enemy's hand. Look here, Ghita; you can see her
through this opening in the houses--that dark spot on the bay,
there--and you will perceive no gun from any battery in Porto Ferrajo
can as much as frighten, much less harm her."

[1] The English of _Feu Follet_.

"I know her position, Raoul, and understand why you anchored in that
spot. I knew, or thought I knew you, from the first moment you came in
plain sight; and so long as you remained outside, I was not sorry to
look on so old a 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