"You had better fear me, mon garcons" he threatened, "and do my bidding as quietly and un-noticed as mice. Now, go! Allei, vite!"

They scampered in a twinkling.

Pleased with himself, Choundas turned once more to Lt. Hainaut. "Let us see what you have accomplished, Jules. By the way, we will be having dinner guests. You know the gallant Capitaine Desplan?"

"But of course, maitre. Capitaine Desplan? Welcome," Hainaut piped up to the captain of the Le Bouclier frigate, as if they hadn't spent nearly six weeks aboard her, in cheek-to-jowl company.

Choundas stomped up to the wood veranda while Hainaut made his welcomes to the other captains of their acquaintance off the 20-gunned corvettes that had escorted their older 28-gun frigate and a storeship; Capitaine de Fregate Griot of Le Gascon, a stout little fellow of dark features, and the much taller and paler Capitaine de Fregate MacPherson off Za Resolue, an emigre Jacobite Scot whose family had fled to France after the failure of Bonnie Prince Charlie Stuart in 1745.

Another officer, a mere Lieutenant de Vaisseau, had alit from the carriage, too, one who hung back shyly. "Et vous, m'sieur!"'

"That is Lieutenant Recamier, Jules," Choundas informed him as he stood, impatiently rapping his stick on the veranda to hurry them inside. "Formerly of the schooner L'Incendiare. He is most familiar with Caribbean waters, and has a most intriguing tale to tell. After dessert and brandy, we must avail ourselves of his experience. Come, messieurs … let us share a glass of wine, and discover what an island cook can do with victuals."

Ah, him! Hainaut thought with malicious glee, having read afteraction reports of L'Incendiare 's loss. It was no wonder that the poor fellow was diffident! Hainaut wasn't sure whether Lt. Recamier was to be the main course, the dessert, or the postprandial entertainment.