There, in the near distance, gleamed the lights of the "Hudson." Darrin's face glowed with pride in the ship and in the Nation that stood behind her.
Almost unconsciously he stepped inside the little grove. For a few minutes longer his gaze rested on the sea. Then, hearing voices faintly, he turned to see if Dalzell were approaching.
Instead, it was the white-bearded foreigner, the murmur of whose voice had reached him. With him was another man, younger, black-haired, and with a face that somehow made the beholder think of an eagle.
The two men were engaged in close, low-voiced conversation.
"I'd better step into view," reflected Darrin, "so that they may not talk of private matters in my hearing."
Just then a chuckle escaped the younger of the pair, and with it Dave distinguished the word, "American."
It was the sneering intonation given the word that made Dave Darrin start slightly.
"Those men are discussing my country," muttered the young ensign, swiftly, "and one of them at least is well acquainted with that spy, Gortchky. Perhaps I shall do better to remain where I am."
Nor had Dave long to deliberate on this point, for the pair now neared the grove. They were speaking French, and in undertones, but Dave's ear was quick for that tongue, and he caught the words:
"England's friendship is important to America at the present moment, and it is very freely given, too. The English believe in their Yankee cousins."