"Yes, sir, those rockets did all the mischief; for I have since learned that, as soon as the first one was thrown, Master Yvard tripped his kedge and went out of the bay as quietly as one goes out of a dining-room when he don't wish to disturb the company."
"Aye, he took _French_ leave, the _b--y sans culotte_" returned the captain, putting himself in a better humor with his own pun. "But did you _see_ nothing of all this?"
"The first I knew of the matter, sir, was seeing the lugger gliding along under the rocks so close in that you might have jumped aboard her; and it was too late to stop her. Before those lazy _far nientes_ could have pricked and primed, she was out of gun-shot."
"_Far nientes_, sir; which is a nickname we give these siesta-gentry, you know, Captain Cuffe."
"I know nothing about it, sir, and I'll thank you always to speak to me in English, Mr. Griffin. That is a language which I flatter myself I understand, and it's quite good enough for all my wants."
"Yes, sir, and for any man's wants. I'm sure, I am sorry I can speak Italian, since it has led to this mistake."
"Poh--poh--Griffin, you mustn't lay everything to heart that comes wrong end foremost. Dine with me to-day, and we'll talk the matter over at leisure."
"Now in the fervid noon the smooth bright sea Heaves slowly, for the wandering winds are dead That stirred it into foam. The lonely ship Rolls wearily, and idly flap the sails Against the creaking masts. The lightest sound Is lost not on the ear, and things minute Attract the observant eye."
Thus terminated the setting-down, like many others that Captain Cuffe had resolved to give, but which usually ended in a return to good-nature and reason. The steward was told to set a plate for Mr. Griffin among the other guests, and then the commander of the frigate followed the lieutenant on deck. Here he found every officer in the ship, all looking at le Feu-Follet with longing eyes, and most of them admiring her appearance, as she lay on the mirrorlike Mediterranean, with the two light sails just holding her stationary.
"A regular-built snake-in-the-grass!" growled the boatswain, Mr. Strand, who was taking a look at the lugger over the hammock cloths of the waist, as he stood on the heel of a spare topmast to do so; "I never fell in with a scamp that had a more d--n-my-eyes look!"