"De Chamillard," said O'Neill, "you can do nothing."
"The laws of war--" persisted the Frenchman.
"It is in accordance with those laws that I do what I do," replied the admiral, shortly; "and you may say to your captain that if I catch him he shall swing from the first yard-arm that comes in the harbor."
"I am answered, then. Very good; I shall remember your courteous words, my Lord; and now I enter my formal protest against this unwarranted action on your part concerning the Marquis de Richemont. The King of France will have something to say about it. I bid you farewell."
"Farewell, sir," said the admiral, indifferently turning away.
"De Richemont, good-bye; embrace me." As the two men came together, the Frenchman whispered, "This woman--is she your friend?"
"Yes," replied O'Neill, quickly.
"Mademoiselle," said De Chamillard, turning to Elizabeth with a keen look in his eyes. Recognizing him at last, she stretched out her hand to him. He murmured as he bent low over it, "Delay the execution for at least six hours, and I will save him." Elizabeth sank down in her chair, a gleam of hope in her heart.
"I salute you," he said, turning away.
"Sergeant," cried the admiral, "attend the Vicomte de Chamillard and see him safely bestowed on his vessel."