Raoul inwardly muttered a malediction on all priests; a class of men which, rightly enough, he believed to be united in their hostility to France. But it would not do to express this in his assumed character; and he affected to listen, as one of his class ought to give ear to a fact that came from his spiritual father.
"North from south, eccellenza! Monsignore knows a great deal more than that, if the truth were said; though, I suppose, these noble signori are acquainted with the right reverend father's great infirmity?"
"Not we--none of us, I fancy, ever had the honor to be in his company. Surely, fellow, your bishop is a man of truth?"
"Truth!--Yes, eccellenza, so true is he that if he were to tell me that the thing I saw myself had not and could not happen, I should rather believe Monsignore than believe my own eyes. Still, Signori, eyes are something; and as the right reverend father has none, or what are as bad as none, for any use they can be in looking at a vessel half a mile off, he may not always see what he thinks he sees. When Monsignore tells us that so and so is Gospel, we all believe it, for we know the time has been when he could read; but we never think of going to his door to ask which way a ship is steering, having the use of our own senses."
"Can this fellow tell us the truth, Griffin?" asked Cuffe, a good deal mystified by Raoul's artifice and his assumed simplicity. "If so, we shall be going exactly on the wrong scent by hauling round Campanella and running into the Gulf of Salerno. The French hold Gaeta yet, and it is quite likely that Master Yvard may wish to keep a friendly port open under his lee!"
"You forget, Captain Cuffe, that his lordship has sent a light cruiser already up that way, and le Feu-Follet would hardly dare to show herself near one of our regular fellows--"
"Umph!--I don't know that, Mr. Griffin; I don't exactly know that. The Proserpine is a 'regular fellow,' after a fashion, at least; and the Few-Folly has dared to show herself to her. Jack-o'-Lantern--D--n me, Griffin, but I think she is well named now, I'd rather chase a jack-o'-lantern in the Island of Sicily than be hunting after such a chap;--first he's here; then he's there; and presently he's nowhere. As for the sloop, she's gone south, at my suggestion, to look into the bays along the Calabrian coast. I told Nelson I wanted another ship; for, just so certain as this Rule--Raw-owl, what the d--- l do you call the pirate, Griffin?"
"Raoul, Captain Cuffe; Raoul Yvard is his name. 'Tis thoroughly French. Raoul means Rodolph."
"Well, I told Nelson if this lad should get to dodging round one of the islands we might as well set about playing 'puss in the corner' by the week as to think of driving him off the land for a fair chase. He works his boat like a stagecoach turning into an inn-yard!"
"I wonder my lord did not think of this and give us a sloop or two to help us."