"So they say aboard here," answered the witness, coolly; "though, for my part, I've no answer to give to such a question." "Do you deny your name, Sir?" "I deny nothing - want to say nothing, or to have anything to do with this trial or this ship." Raoul breathed easier; for to own the truth, he had not much confidence in Ithuel's constancy or disinterestedness; and he apprehended that he had been purchased with the promise of a pardon for himself. "You will remember that you are under oath, and may be punished for contumacy on refusing to answer." "I've some gineral idees of law," answered Ithuel, passing his hand over his queue to make sure that it was right, "for we all do a little at that in Ameriky. I practised some myself, when a young man, though it was only afore a justice-peace. We used to hold that a witness needn't answer ag'in himself." "Is it, then, on account of criminating yourself that you answer thus vaguely?" "I decline answering that question," answered Ithuel, with an air of dignity. "Witness, have you any personal knowledge of the prisoner?" “I decline answering that question, too." "Do you know anything of such a person as Raoul Yvard?" "What if I do? I'm a native American, and have a right to form acquaintances in foreign lands, if I see it 's to my interest, or it 's agreeable to my feelin's." "Have you never served on board his Majesty's ships?" "What majesty? ? - there's no majesty in Ameriky, as I know, but the majesty of heaven." "Remember that your answers are all recorded, and may tell against you on some other occasion." "Not lawfully: a witness can't be made to give answers that tell ag'in himself." "Certainly, not made to do it; still he may do it of his own accord." "Then it's the duty of the court to put him on his guard: I've heerd that ag'in and ag'in in Ameriky." "Did you ever see a vessel called Le Feu-Follet?" "How in natur' is a mariner to tell all the vessels he may happen to see on the wide ocean?" "Did you ever serve under the French flag?" "I decline entering at all into my private affairs. Being free, I'm free to sarve where I please." "It is useless to ask this witness any further questions," Cuffe quietly observed. "The man is well known in this ship, and his own trial will most probably take place as soon as this is ended." The judge-advocate assented, and Ithuel was permitted to withdraw, his contumacy being treated with the indifference which power is apt to exhibit towards weakness. Still there was no legal proof on which to convict the prisoner. No one doubted his guilt, and there were the strongest reasons, short of a downright certainty, for supposing that he commanded the lugger which had so recently fought the boats of the very ship in which the court was sitting; but, notwithstanding, supposition was not the evidence which the laws required; and the recent execution of Caraccioli had made so much conversation that few would condemn without seeing their justification before them. Things were really becoming seriously awkward, and the court was again cleared for the purpose of consultation. In the private discourse which followed, Cuffe stated all which had occurred, the manner in which Raoul had been identified, and the probabilities, nay, moral certainties of the case. At the same time he was forced to allow that he possessed no direct evidence that the lugger he had chased was a Frenchman at all, and, least of all, Le Feu-Follet. It is true she had worn the French flag; but she had also worn the English, and the Proserpine had done the same thing. To be sure, the lugger had fought under the drapeau tricolor, which might be taken as a strong circumstance against her; but it was not absolutely conclusive, for the circumstances might possibly justify deception to the last moment; and he admitted that the frigate herself had appeared to fire at the batteries under the same ensign. The case was allowed to be embarrassing; and while no one really doubted the identity of Raoul, those who were behind the curtain greatly feared they might be compelled to adjourn the trial for want of evidence, instead of making an immediate sentence the means of getting possession of the lugger, as had been hoped. When all these points had been sufficiently discussed, and Cuffe had let his brethren into his view of the real state of the case, he pointed out a course which he still trusted would prove effectual. After a few minutes of further deliberation on this information, the doors were opened, and the court resumed its public sitting as before. "Let a young woman who is known by the name of Ghita be brought in next," said the judge-advocate, consulting his notes. Raoul started, and a shade of deep concern passed over his face; but he soon recovered, and seemed unmoved. Ghita and her uncle had been taken from the cabin state-room, and placed below, in order that the private consultations might be perfectly secret, and it was necessary to wait a few minutes until she could be summoned. These past, the door opened, and the girl entered the room. She cast a glance of tender concern at Raoul; but the novelty of her situation, and the awful character of an oath, to one of her sensitive conscience and utter inexperience, soon drew her attention entirely to the scene more immediately before her. The judge-advocate explained the nature of the oath she was required to take, and then he administered it. Had Ghita been taken less by surprise, or had she in the least foreseen the consequences, no human power could have induced her to submit to be sworn; but, ignorant of all this, she submitted passively, kissing the cross with reverence, and even offering to kneel as she made the solemn protestation. All this was painful to the prisoner, who distinctly foresaw the consequences. Still, so profound was his reverence for Ghita's singleness of heart and mind, that he would not by look or gesture in any manner endeavour to undermine that sacred love of truth which he knew formed the very foundations of her character. She was accordingly sworn, without anything occurring to alarm her affections, or to apprise her of what might be the sad result of the act. Hic et ubique? Then we'll shift our ground: Come hither, gentlemen, And lay your hands upon my sword: Swear by my sword." Hamlet. "Your name is Ghita," commenced the judge-advocate, examining his memoranda "Ghita what?" "Ghita Caraccioli, signore," answered the girl, in a voice so gentle and sweet as to make a friend of every listener. The name, however, was not heard without producing a general start, and looks of surprise were exchanged among all in the room; most of the officers of the ship who were not on duty being present as spectators. "Caraccioli!" repeated the judge-advocate, with emphasis. "That is a great name in Italy. Do you assume to belong to the illustrious house which bears this appellation?" "Signore, I assume to own nothing which is illustrious, being merely a humble girl who lives with her uncle in the prince's towers on Monte Argentaro." "How happens it, then, that you bear the distinguished name of Caraccioli, signorina?" "I dare say, Mr. Medford," observed Cuffe, in English, of course, "that the young woman doesn't know herself whence she got the name. These matters are managed very loosely in Italy." "Signore," resumed Ghita, earnestly, after waiting respectfully for the captain to get through, "I bear the name of my father, as is usual with children; but it is a name on which a heavy disgrace has fallen so lately as yesterday; his father having been a sight for the thousands of Naples to gaze on, as his aged body hung at the yard of one of your ships." "And do you claim to be the grand-daughter of that unfortunate admiral?" "So I have been taught to consider myself. May his soul rest in peace, which his foes would not grant to his body! That crimi"nal, as you doubtless believe him, was my father's father, though few knew it when he was honoured as a prince and a high officer of the king." A deep silence followed; the singularity of the circumstance, and the air of truth which pervaded the manner of the girl, uniting to produce a profound sensation. "The admiral had the reputation of being childless," observed Cuffe, in an under-tone. "Doubtless this girl's father has been the consequence of some irregular connexion.” "If there has been a promise, or any words of recognition uttered before witnesses," muttered Lyon, "accordin' to the laws of Scotland, issue, and a few pairtenant expressions, will splice a couple as strongly as ye 'll be doing it in England before either of the archbishops." "As this is Italy, it is not probable that the same law rules here. Remember," addressing himself to Ghita, "you are sworn to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth." Ghita's heart beat violently, and the colour came into her face with the impetuosity of sensitive alarm. She had no knowledge of courts, and the object of the inquiry was unknown to her. Then followed the triumph of innocence; the purity of her mind, and the quiet of her conscience re-assuring her, by bringing the strong conviction that she had no reason to blush for any sentiment she might happen to entertain. "Signore," said she, dropping her eyes to the floor, for the gaze of all the court was fastened on her face, “I am acquainted with Raoul Yvard, the person you mention; this is he who sits between those two cannon. He is a Frenchman, and he does command the lugger called the Feu-Follet." "I knew we should get it all by this witness," exclaimed Cuffe, unable to suppress the relief he felt at obtaining the required testimony. "You say that you know this of your own knowledge," resumed the judge-advocate. "Messieurs," said Raoul, rising, "will you grant me leave to speak? This is a cruel scene; and rather than endure it, - rather than give this dear girl the cause for future pain which I know her |