Now, however, the scene was entirely changed. The lugger had escaped all damage worthy of notice; her decks had not been stained with blood; and her success had been as complete as could be desired. In addition to these advantages, the result removed all apprehension from the only source of danger that Raoul thought could exist as between his own vessel and the frigate, of a boat-attack in a calm; for men who had just been so roughly handled in an enterprise so well concealed would not be likely to renew the attempt while they still smarted under the influence of the late repulse. Affairs of this sort exact all the discipline and resolution that a well-regulated service can afford; and are not to be thought of under the temporary demoralization of defeat. All in the lugger, therefore, considered this collision with the Proserpine at an end, for the moment at least.
Ghita had dined, for the day had now turned some time, and the girl had come on deck to escape the confinement of a very small cabin, leaving her uncle to enjoy his customary _siesta_. She was seated under the awning of the quarter-deck, using her needle, as was her wont at that hour on the heights of Argentaro. Raoul had placed himself on a gunslide near her, and Ithuel was busy within a few feet of them, dissecting a spy-glass, with a view to clean its lenses.
"I suppose the most excellent Andrea Barrofaldi will sing a Te Deum for his escape from our fangs," suddenly exclaimed Raoul, laughing. "_Pardie!_ he is a great historian and every way fit to write an account of this glorious victory, which Monsieur l'Anglais, _là bas_, is about to send to his government!"
"And you, Raoul, have no occasion for a Te Deum after your escape?" demanded Ghita, gently, and yet with emphasis. "Is there no God for you to thank, as well as for the vice-governatore?"
"_Peste!_--our French deity is little thought of just now, Ghita. Republics, as you know, have no great faith in religion--is it not so, _mon brave Américain?_ Tell us, Etooel; have you any religion in America?"
As Ithuel had often heard Raoul's opinions on this subject and knew the prevailing state of France in this particular, he neither felt nor expressed any surprise at the question. Still, the idea ran counter to all his own notions and prejudices, he having been early taught to respect religion, even when he was most serving the devil. In a word, Ithuel was one of those descendants of Puritanism who, "God-ward," as it is termed, was quite unexceptionable, so far as his theory extended, but who, "manward," was "as the Scribes and Pharisees." Nevertheless, as he expressed it himself, "he always stood up for religion," a fact that his English companions had commented on in jokes, maintaining that he even "stood up" when the rest of the ship's company were on their knees.