"And may be yet, Celeste," replied I.
We conversed for two hours, which appeared to be but ten minutes. I felt that I was in love, but I do not think that Celeste had any idea at the time that she was—but I leave the reader to judge from the little conversation I have quoted, whether she was not, or something very much approaching to it.
The next morning I went out early to look for the brig, and, to my great delight, saw her about six miles off the harbour's mouth, standing in for the land. She had now got up very respectable jury-masts, with topgallants for topsails, and appeared to be well under command. When she was within three miles of the harbour she lowered the jolly-boat, the only one she had left, and it pulled in-shore with a flag of truce hoisted at the bows. I immediately returned to my room, and wrote a detailed account of what had taken place, ready to send to O'Brien when the boat returned, and I, of course, requested him to send me my effects, as I had nothing but what I stood in. I had just completed my letter when General O'Brien came in.
"My dear friend," said he, "I have just received a flag of truce from Captain O'Brien, requesting to know the fate of his boats' crews, and permission to send in return the clothes and effects of the survivors."
"I have written down the whole circumstances for him, and made the same request to him," replied I; and I handed him my letter. He read it over and returned it.
"But, my dear lad, you must think very poorly of us Frenchmen, if you imagine that we intend to detain you here as a prisoner. In the first place, your liberation of so many French subjects, when you captured the Victorine, would entitle you to a similar act of kindness; and, in the next place, you have not been fairly captured, but by a visitation of Providence, which, by the means of the late storm, must destroy all national antipathies, and promote that universal philanthropy between all men, which your brave fellows proved that they possess. You are, therefore, free to depart with all your men, and we shall still hold ourselves your debtors. How is your side to-day?"
"Oh, very bad, indeed," replied I; for I could not bear the idea of returning to the brig so soon, for I had been obliged to quit Celeste very soon after dinner the day before, and go to bed. I had not yet had much conversation with her, nor had I told General O'Brien how it was that we escaped from France. "I don't think I can possibly go on board to-day, but I feel very grateful to you for your kindness."
"Well, well," replied the general, who observed my feelings, "I do not think it is necessary that you should go on board to-day. I will send the men and your letter, and I will write to Captain O'Brien, to say that you are in bed, and will not bear moving until the day after tomorrow. Will that do?"
I thought it but a very short time, but I saw that the general looked as if he expected me to consent; so I did.
"The boat can come and return again with some of your clothes," continued the general, "and I will tell Captain O'Brien that if he comes off the mouth of the harbour the day after to-morrow, I will send you on board in one of our boats."