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"Bad enough," replied the old man, with a deep sigh; "the lugger is taken by a frigate, and sent into Plymouth." "And Captain McElvina he's not hurt, I hope?" "No, I presume not, as he has written the letter, and says nothing about it."
The lugger was certainly as beautiful a model of that description of vessel as had ever been launched from a slip.
"As soon as my uncle and myself have landed at the Marina Grande, Raoul," said Ghita, "thou and the American will be certain to seek thy lugger; then thou promisest to quit the coast?" "Why ask promises of one that thou dost not sufficiently respect to think he will keep them?" "I do not deserve this, Raoul; between thee and me, no promise has ever been broken."
The men stood watch and watch, relieving each other at intervals throughout the night, while the boat with its two lugger sails crept on steadily upon its course.
The lugger was a beautiful boat, according to the idea of beauty that then prevailed, having been constructed by Mr George Heard familiarly known as Gramfer Heard shipbuilder of Devonport, and Dick Chichester's master, as a kind of yacht, for his own especial use and enjoyment.
I saw it would be best to tell the whole truth, at once; for, were I to get any aid from this lugger, the facts, sooner or later, must be made known. Accordingly, I gave the Frenchman, and his English-looking companion, a full account of what had occurred between us and the Speedy. After this narrative, there was another long conference between Mons. Gallois and his friend.
Impatient at the length of time the vessels were in sinking, those ashore had opened fire with cannons upon them, and the shot had struck the lugger just above the water. With a little cry Virginie fell senseless on the deck. "That's the best thing that could have happened," Harry said as Jeanne stooped over her sister.
The master did not know, but we may say that the lugger was flying light, too much so for the canvas she carried, for, in such heavy weather, there was not time to shorten sail. She lurched heavily under the sea that was now getting up, and, a squall striking her, her lee guns were completely buried. Just at this moment the Proserpine belched forth her flame and smoke.
"Looking out to stop ships with provisions, that we may supply the fleet," was the answer. The people of the frigate, satisfied with this reply, proceeded to rejoin the fleet, while we, glad to escape further questioning, made sail in chase of the lugger. She was a fast craft, and led us a chase of four hours before we captured her. She proved to be the Castor and Pollux privateer of sixteen guns.
"Look there!" Ryan exclaimed, a few minutes later, "there is a lugger coming out from the direction of Granville." "So there is, Dick, and with the wind behind her, she won't be very long before she is here. I should say that she is about six or seven miles off, and an hour will bring her up to us." "I will get out an oar, Terence. That will help us a bit. We can change about, occasionally."
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