at this characteristic manifestation of good-will and
courtesy; and after pausing an instant to choose an expression to soften
his refusal, and to express his own sense of the motive of the
invitation, he called out--

_"Veuillez bien recevoir nos excuses pour aujourd'hui, Mons. le
Chevalier. Nous n'avons pas encore digere le repas si noble recu a vos
mains comme dejeuner."_

The Chloe passing ahead, bows terminated the interview. Sir Gervaise's
French was at fault, for what between the rapid, neat, pronunciation of
the Frenchman, the trumpet, and the turn of the expression, he did not
comprehend the meaning of the _contre-amiral_.

"What does he say, Wychecombe?" he asked eagerly of the young man. "Will
he come, or not?"

"Upon my word, Sir Gervaise, French is a sealed language to me. Never
having been a prisoner, no opportunity has offered for acquiring the
language. As I understood, you intended to ask him to dinner; I rather
think, from his countenance, he meant to say he was not in spirits for
the entertainment."

"Pooh! we would have put him in spirits, and Bluewater could have talked
to him in his own tongue, by the fathom. We will close with the Caesar to
leeward, Denham; never mind rank on an occasion like this. It's time to
let the top-gallant-halyards run; you'll have to settle your top-sails
too, or we shall shoot past her. Bluewater may take it as a salute to
his gallantry in carrying so fine a ship in so handsome a manner."

Several minutes now passed in silence, during which the frigate was less
and less rapidly closing with the larger vessel, drawing ahead towards
the last, as it might be, foot by foot. Sir Gervaise got upon one of the
quarter-deck guns, and steadying himself against the hammock-cloths, he
was in readiness to exchange the greetings he was accustomed to give and
to receive from his friend, in the same heartfelt manner as if nothing
had occurred to disturb the harmony of their feelings. The single glance
of the eye, the waving of the hat, and the noble manner in which
Bluewater interposed between him and his most dangerous enemy, was still
present to his mind, and disposed him even more than common to the
kindest feelings of his nature. Stowel was already on the poop of the
Caesar, and, as the Chloe came slowly on, he raised his hat in deference
to the commander-in-chief. It was a point of delicacy with Sir Gervaise
never to interfere with any subordinate flag-officer's vessel any m