'Some among you,' innocently insinuated the speaker, 'may possibly be aware that the French have been preparing for some time past to make a descent upon our coasts, and I tell you now (danger being over) that supposing they could have evaded the English fleet and landed in force, much difficulty might have resulted. But thanks to the wind which has blown persistently for days, although they did escape for awhile the vigilance of the English admiral, yet are they, by heaven's mercy, routed and put to flight, after beating about in the offing for well-nigh a week.' Again the speaker paused to mark the success of his efforts. Curran, like Arthur, was rolling pills of bread upon the tablecloth; the young ladies, so demonstratively lively but a few moments before, were glancing at each other with blanched lips. Mrs. Gillin was sitting bolt upright, her trembling fingers making sad havoc with her fan. A low hum of dismay passed along the tables. The sound seemed to tickle my Lord Clare's ear. He waited for a moment or so, and fixed his eye upon Miss Wolfe as he took up the thread of his discourse. 'Yes!' he said with exultation. 'The French fleet has come and gone! The menacing danger has faded harmlessly away. It started 15,000 strong. Tempests arose, such as are always at the beck of Britain when invasion threatens her rights, which scattered the Gallic fleet. Hoche--who was to do such wonders--was aboard the admiral's ship; General Wolfe Tone (who by-the-bye will certainly, though he dubs himself general, bring himself to the gallows) was aboard another. The flower of Republican valour was packed like herrings between decks. Where now are those gawdy cohorts? Making for Brest as fast as fear can drive them. I pray that the King's admiral may intercept them in their flight!'