"No imprudence, no imprudence, my old friends," said Monmouth, who sought to gain time since the Gascon disappeared.
At last Captain Ralph came to say a word in the ear of the prince; the latter gave a new order in a low voice and with a radiant air.
"Your highness, they are about launching the long boat," said De Chemerant, who was burning with impatience to see the duke on board.
"It is useless, sir," said the duke. Then, addressing himself formally to the noblemen with an accent of profound emotion: "My old friends, my faithful companions, farewell, and forever farewell, I have sworn by the memory of the most admirable martyr to friendship, never to take part in civil troubles which might deluge England with blood; I will not break my oath. Farewell, brave Mortimer, farewell good Dudley, farewell valiant Rothsay; it breaks my heart not to embrace you for a last time. Forget this my appearance. Henceforth let James of Monmouth—be dead to you as he has been to all the world for five years! Again farewell, and forever farewell!"
Then turning toward his captain, the duke cried quickly in a sonorous voice:
"Set all sails, Ralph!"
At these words Ralph seized the helm; the sails of the brigantine, already prepared, were hoisted and trimmed with marvelous rapidity. Thanks to the breeze and her galley oars, the Chameleon was under way before the passengers of the frigate had recovered from their surprise. The brigantine, in moving off, kept in the direction of the stern of the frigate in order not to be exposed to her guns.
It is impossible to paint the rage of De Chemerant, the despair of the noblemen, in seeing the light vessel rapidly increasing the distance between them.
"Captain," cried De Chemerant, "set all sail; we will overhaul this brigantine; there is no better sailer than the Thunderer."
"Yes, yes," cried the peers, "board her!"