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 Cambacérès, mon
Ithuel Bolt, to converse with him on politics and religion."

"Religion," repeated Ghita, in a saddened tone; "the less you say on
that holy subject, Raoul, the better I shall like it, and the better it
will be for yourself, in the end. The state of your country makes your
want of religion matter of regret, rather than of accusation, but it is
none the less a dreadful evil."

"Well, then," resumed the sailor, who felt he had touched a dangerous
ground, "we will talk of other things. Even supposing we are taken, what
great evil have we to apprehend? We are honest corsairs, duly
commissioned, and acting under the protection of the French Republic,
one and undivided, and can but be made prisoners of war. That is a
fortune which has once befallen me, and no greater calamity followed
than my having to call myself le Capitaine Smeet', and finding out the
means of mystifying le vice-governatore."