The party then broke up to go to the theatre, and afterwards we repaired to the hotel. I remained there two days more, and on the last of these two days I had promised to sup with the French captain of the privateer, who had called upon me, and behaved very politely. The following day, after noon, when the tide served, I was to sail. Accordingly, after the theatre was over, I went with the French captain to his house, in company with two or three more. Supper was on the table when we arrived there, and we went into the room, waiting for the presence of the captain’s lady, who had not gone to the theatre, and to whom I had not been introduced. After a few minutes she made her appearance, and as she entered the room, I was struck with her extreme beauty, although she was past the meridian of life. I thought I had seen her face before, and as she came forward with her husband, it at once rushed into my mind that she was the widow of the French gentleman who had so gallantly fought his vessel, and who fell by my hand—the lady who was nursing her son at the King’s Hospital at Jamaica, and who had been so inveterate against me. Our eyes met, and her cheeks flushed; she recognized me, and I coloured deeply as I bowed to her. She was taken with a faintness, and fell back. Fortunately her husband received her in his arms.
“What is the matter, my love?” he said.
“Nothing; but I am taken with a vertigo,” replied she; “it will go off directly. Make my excuses to the company, while I retire for a few minutes.”
Her husband went out of the room, and after a minute or two came back, saying that Madam was not well enough to return to the room, and begged that they would admit her excuse, and sit down to supper without her. Whether his wife had informed him of who I was, I know not; but nothing could exceed the civility of the French captain towards me during the supper. We did not, however, remain very late, as the lady of the house was indisposed.
I found out, as I walked home with another French officer, that the captain of the privateer had fallen in with the French lady on her return from Jamaica, where her son died in the hospital, and had married her; and that, moreover, unlike most French husbands, he was most ardently attached to her.
I had breakfasted the next morning, and packed up my clothes preparatory to going on board, and had just returned from a visit of leave-taking with the governor, when who should walk up into my apartment but the French captain of the privateer, accompanied by three or four French officers of the army. I perceived by his looks when he entered that he was a little excited, but I met him cordially. He began a conversation about his action with Captain Weatherall, and instead of speaking handsomely as he had done before, he used expressions which I considered offensive, and I at once took him up by observing that being under a flag of truce, it was impossible for me to notice what he said.
“No,” he replied; “but I wish we were once more on the high seas together, for I have a little debt of gratitude to pay off.”
“Well,” I replied, “you may have; and I should not be sorry to give you an opportunity, if it were possible.”
“May I inquire whether you intend to go home as a cartel, and carry your flag of truce to Liverpool?”
“No, Sir,” I replied; “I shall haul down my flag of truce as soon as I am out of gun-shot of your batteries. I understand what you mean, Sir. It is very true that your vessel carries nearly double the number of men and guns that mine does, but nevertheless I shall haul down my flag of truce, as I say I will.”