"Why, Signori, the facts were just these. Andrea Barrofaldi, as you know, is the vice-governatore of Porto Ferrajo, and I am its unworthy podestà. Of course it is our duty to look into all matters affecting the public weal, and more especially into the business and occupations of strangers who come into our island. Well, it is now three weeks or more since the lugger or felucca was seen--" "Which was it, a felucca or a lugger?" demanded the Judge Advocate, holding his pen ready to write the answer. "Both, Signore; a felucca and a lugger." "Ah--there were two; a felucca and a lugger." "No, Signore; but this felucca was a lugger. Tommaso Tonti wished to mystify me about that, too; but I have not been podestà in a seaport so many years for nothing. No, Signori, there are all sorts of feluccas--ship-feluccas, brig-feluccas, and lugger-feluccas." When this answer was translated, the members of the court smiled, while Raoul Yvard laughed out honestly. "Well, Signor Podestà," resumed the Judge Advocate--"the prisoner came into Porto Ferrajo in a lugger?" "So it was said, Signore. I did not see him actually on board of her, but he professed to be the commander of a certain vessel, in the service of the King of Inghilterra, called ze Ving-y-Ving, and said that his own name was Smees--si--il capitano, or Sir Smees." "Professed? Do you not know that this lugger was the notorious French privateer, le Feu-Follet?" "I know they say so now, Signori; but the vice-governatore and I supposed her to be ze Ving-y-Ving." "And do you not know that the prisoner is actually Raoul Yvard; of your own knowledge, I mean?" "Corpo di Bacco!--How should I know any such thing, Signor Guideca-Avvocato," exclaimed Vito Viti, who literally translated what he understood to be the title of his interrogator, thereby converting him into a sort of ship-felucca--"how should I know any such thing? I do not keep company with corsairs, except when they come upon, our island and call themselves 'Sir Smees.'" The Judge Advocate and the members of the court looked gravely at each other. No one in the least doubted that the prisoner was Raoul Yvard, but it was necessary legally to prove it before he could be condemned. Cuffe was now asked if the prisoner had not confessed his own identity, but no one could say he had done so in terms, although his conversation would seem to imply as much. In a word, justice was like to be in what is by no means an unusual dilemma for that upright functionary, viz., unable to show a fact that no one doubted. At length Cuffe recollected Ghita and Ithuel, and he wrote their names on a piece of paper, and passed them down the table to the Judge Advocate. The latter nodded his head, as much as to say he understood the president's meaning; and then he told the prisoner he might cross-examine the witness if he saw fit.