“Yes, madame,” said our hero; “most of the vessels taken in Toulon sail in company. We shall have that magnificent ship, the Commerce de Marseilles, hundred and twenty guns, and the Puissant, seventy-four; and the Perle and Arethusa frigates, and several smaller craft; there is not much danger of capture in such company.” Lieutenant O’Loughlin, or rather Captain O’Loughlin, entered the cabin, making a low bow to the party, and stammering out a mixture of French and English, which he intended for “Pray do not disturb yourself;” but the two girls insisted upon the really handsome and dashing looking sailor sitting down and joining them. This he did, desiring the midshipman to say, that he was proud of having such a freight on board the Babet, and that he hoped they would have a brush with a French corvette, or even a frigate, just to show them how devoted he was to the service of the young ladies. “I must alter the last part of your speech, Captain,” said our hero, laughing; “you must include the mother.” “Well,” said Madame Volney, with a smile, for she understood English tolerably, on William Thornton’s literally translating the Captain’s speech; “we feel highly the compliment; but for our own parts, we should prefer his devotion without the brush with the corvette.” “Be St. Patrick! the eyes of those girls so bewilder me,” said O’Loughlin, “that I forgot what I came down here for. Here, look at this;” and he pulled a very soiled and sealed note from his waistcoat; “a fishing boat with two men in her pulled up alongside just after you went down, and saying something or other I did not understand, handed up this note. I called out to them to hold on till I sent for you to speak to them; but, confound their impudence, they did not seem to understand me. What’s that on the back? it’s not English.” “No,” said William Thornton, looking at the writing, “by Jove, it is directed to me!” “You,” said O’Loughlin; “that’s not your name at the back; I could make that out if it were.” “No, it’s not my name; but you see it says, ‘To the young midshipman on board the Babet,’ and that’s me, unless you choose to change ranks with me.” “Upon my conscience I’d have no objection, if I got the gift of the language by the change. But what the deuce is in it; are there any girls ashore looking after you?” “No, I think not,” said our hero, laughing; and begging Madame’s and the young ladies’ pardon, he opened the note. But the name of Jean Plessis at the bottom made him say out loud, and in French: “Mabel, this is from Jean Plessis!” The child gave a cry of joy and clasped her hands, whilst the Misses Volney started up with joyful exclamations. Captain O’Loughlin rubbed his head, uttered an anathema against the French language, and looked at Agatha Volney’s handsome features, lighted up with the glow of expectation, as she said: “Oh, dear! perhaps we shall hear something of this dear child’s mother. Do read it out, Mr. Thornton.”