When he heard of their fate, he’d scarcely believe it, till I told him that I had seen two of them dead on the deck, and that Dubois had accounted for the other.
“Well, I’m mighty thankful, for they might have had a worse ending, and it wasn’t to be supposed that they’d come to a good one,” he remarked.
Soon after I got back to the ship the captain sent for me into the cabin.
“I wish you, Finnahan,” he said, “to try and ascertain from these two young French officers what they know about the proceedings of their fleet, and also learn whether they suppose the ships ahead are those of our country or theirs.”
I promised to do as he desired. I found Dubois walking the deck, looking somewhat disconsolate. He received me as before, in a cold manner, though La Touche held out his hand when I offered him mine.
“It’s of little consequence now,” he said; “but I confess that we suspect you of carrying off the packet. We only discovered that it was gone after we left the harbour.”
I told him exactly how it had happened, and that I myself considered that under the circumstances I should not have been justified in taking it.
“You have acted honourably, monsieur. I apologise for our wrong suspicions, and I hope Dubois will do the same,” he said.
“Certainly,” said Dubois. “I vowed, when I discovered our loss, that I would never trust an English officer again.”
“You will now acknowledge, then, that though we are compelled to be enemies, we act honourably towards you,” I remarked. “However, all is said by you to be fair in love or war—is it not?”