As for Raoul, he was at a loss for a moment whether to follow or
not; then he hastened to the terrace in front of the government-house
again, in order to ascertain the meaning of the gun. The report had
drawn others to the same place, and on reaching it the young man found
himself in another crowd.
By this time the Proserpine, for Ithuel was right as to the name of the
stranger, had got within a league of the entrance of the bay and had
gone about, stretching over to its eastern shore, apparently with the
intention to fetch fairly into it on the next tack. The smoke of her gun
was sailing off to leeward in a little cloud, and signals were again
flying at her main-royal-mast-head. All this was very intelligible to
Raoul, it being evident at a glance that the frigate had reached in
nearer both to look at the warlike lugger that she saw in the bay, and
to communicate more clearly with her by signals. Ithuel's expedient had
not sufficed; the vigilant Captain Cuffe, alias Sir Brown, who commanded
the Proserpine, not being a man likely to be mystified by so stale a
trick. Raoul scarcely breathed as he watched the lugger in anticipation
of her course.
Ithuel certainly seemed in no hurry to commit himself, for the signal
had now been flying on board the frigate several minutes, and yet no
symptoms of any preparation for an answer could be discovered. At length
the halyards moved, and then three fair, handsome flags rose to the end
of le Feu-Follet's jigger yard, a spar that was always kept aloft in
moderate weather.
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