"That's just it, Airchy. Ye'll all be doing your best in the way of eyes, and we may get the lugger alone. 'Twould be such a pity, Mr. McBean, to divide by three, when the sums might be kept entire!" Such was the state of feeling with which each of these three officers entered on his present duty. Cuffe was earnest in the wish to catch his enemy, and this principally for the credit of the thing, though a little out of a desire to revenge his own losses; Sir Frederick Dashwood, indifferent to all but his own pleasures; and Lyon, closely attentive to the main chance. An hour or two later, or just before Cuffe turned in, he sent a message to request the presence of his first lieutenant, if the latter were still up. Winchester was writing up his private journal; closing the book, he obeyed the order in that quiet, submissive manner which a first lieutenant is more apt to use toward his captain than toward any one else. "Good evening, Winchester," said Cuffe, in a familiar, friendly way, which satisfied the subordinate that he was not sent for to be 'rattled down'; "draw a chair and try a glass of this Capri wine with some water. It's not carrying sail hard to drink a gallon of it; yet I rather think it fills up the chinks better than nothing." "Thank'ee, Captain Cuffe, we like it in the gun-room, and got off a fresh cask or two this morning, while the court was sitting. So they tell me, sir, his lordship has put his name to it, and that this Frenchman is to swing from our fore-yard-arm some time to-morrow?" "It stands so on _paper_, Winchester; but if he confess where his lugger lies, all will go smoothly enough with him. However, as things look _now_, we'll have her, and thanks only to ourselves." "Well, sir, that will be best, on the whole. I do not like to see a man selling his own people." "There you are right enough, Winchester, and I trust we shall get along without it; though the lugger must be ours. I sent for you, by the way, about this Bolt--something must be done with that fellow." "It's a clear case of desertion, Captain Cuffe; and, as it would now seem, of treason in the bargain. I would rather hang ten such chaps than one man like the Frenchman." "Well, it's clear, Mr. Winchester, _you_ do not bear malice! Have you forgotten Porto Ferrajo, and the boats, already? or do you love them that despitefully use you?" "'Twas all fair service, sir, and one never thinks anything of that. I owe this Monsieur Yvard no grudge for what he did; but, now it's all fairly over, I rather like him the better for it. But it's a very different matter as to this Bolt; a skulking scoundrel, who would let other men fight his country's battles, while he goes a-privateering against British commerce." "Aye, there's the rub, Winchester! _Are_ they _his_ country's battles?" "Why, we took him for an Englishman, sir, and we must act up to our own professions, in order to be consistent."