 | CHAPTER IV. The wing-and-wing, or, Le Feu-follet |  |
4. CHAPTER IV.
The world 's all face; the man who shows his heart
Is hooted for his nudities, and scorned.”
Night Thoughts.
Bolt had not been tried. His case had several serious
difficulties, and the orders allowed of a discretion. The
punishment could scarcely be less than death, and, in addition
to the loss of a stout, sinewy man, it involved questions of
natural right, that were not always pleasant to be considered.
Although the impressment of American seamen into the
British ships of war was probably one of the most serious
moral, as well as political wrongs, that one independent
nation ever received at the hands of another, viewed as a
practice of a generation's continuance, it was not wholly
without some relieving points. There was a portion of the
British marine that disdained to practise it at all; leaving it
to the coarser spirits of the profession to discharge a duty
their habits. Thus, we remember to have heard an American
seaman say, one who had been present on many occasions
when his countrymen were torn from under their
flag, that in no instance he ever witnessed, was the officer
who committed the wrong of an air and manner that he
should describe as belonging to the class of gentlemen, on
shore. Whenever one of the latter boarded his vessel, the
crew was permitted to pass unquestioned.
Let this be as it might, there is no question that a strong
and generous feeling existed in the breasts of hundreds in
the British navy, concerning the nature of the wrong that
was done a foreign people, by the practice of impressing
men from under their flag. Although Cuffe was too much
of a martinet to carry his notions on the subject to a very
refined point, he was too much of a man not to be reluctant
to punish another for doing what he felt he would have done
himself, under similar circumstances, and what he could not
but know he would have had a perfect right to do. It was
impossible to mistake one like Ithuel, who had so many of
the Granite peculiarities about him, for anything but what
he was; and so well was his national character established
in the ship, that the sobriquet of The Yankee had been applied
to him, by his shipmates, from the very first. The
fact, therefore, stood him so far in hand, that Cuffe, after a
consultation with Winchester, determined not to put the
alleged deserter on trial; but, after letting him remain a
short time in irons, to turn him to duty, again, under a pretence
that was often used on such occasions, viz., to give
the man an opportunity of proving his American birth, if he
were really what he so strenuously professed to be. Poor
Ithuel was not the only one who was condemned to this
equivocal servitude, hundreds passing weary years of probation,
with the same dim ray of hope, for ever deferred,
gleaming in the distance. It was determined, however, not
to put Ithuel on his trial, until the captain had conversed
with the admiral on the subject, at least; and Nelson, removed
from the influence of the siren by whom he was
enthralled, was a man inclined to leniency, and of even
chivalrous notions of justice. To such contradictions is
star of its duties!
When the sentence on Raoul was pronounced, therefore,
and the prisoner was removed, the court adjourned; a boat
being immediately despatched to the Foudroyant with a copy
of the proceedings, for the rear-admiral's approbation. Then
followed a discussion on much the most interesting topic for
them all; the probable position of, and the means of capturing
the lugger. That le Feu-Follet was near, all were convinced;
but where she was to be found, it was hard to tell.
Officers had been sent on the heights of Capri, one of which
towers more than a thousand feet above the sea; but they
returned from a bootless errand. Nothing resembling the
lugger was visible in the offing, among the islands, or in the
bays. A cutter had been sent to look round Campanella,
and another crossed the mouth of the bay, to take a look
to the northward of Ischia, in order to make certain that the
treacherous craft had not gone behind the mountains of that
island, for a refuge. In short, no expedient, likely to discover
the fugitive, was neglected. All failed, however; boat after
boat came back, without success, and officer after officer
returned wearied and disappointed.
Much of the day was passed in this manner, for it was a
calm, and moving either of the ships was out of the question.
In the full expectation of discovering the lugger somewhere
in striking distance, Cuffe had even gone so far as to detail
a party from each vessel, with a view to attack her in boats,
again; feeling no doubt of success, now that he had the disposable
force of three vessels to send against his enemy.
Winchester was to have commanded, as a right purchased by
his blood; nor was the hope of succeeding, in this way,
abandoned, until the last boat, that which had been sent round
Ischia, returned, and reported its total want of success.
“I have heard it said,” observed Cuffe, as he and his
brother captains stood conversing together on the quarterdeck
of the Proserpine, just after this last report had been
made—“I have heard it said, that this Raoul Yvard has
actually gone boldly into several of our ports, under English
or neutral colours, and lain there a day or two at a time,
unsuspected; until it has suited him to go out again. Can
it be possible he is up, off the town?—There is such a fleet
paint and marks altered, might be among them.—What
think you, Lyon?”
“It is sairtainly a law of nature, Captain Cuffe, that
smaller objects should be overlooked, in the presence of
greater; and such a thing might happen, therefore; though
I should place it among the improbables, if not absolutely
among the impossibles. 'T would be far safer, nevertheless,
to run in, in the manner you designate, among a hundred or
two of ships, than to venture alone into a haven or a roadstead.
If you wish for retirement, Sir Frederick, plunge at
once into the Strand, or take lodgings on Ludgate Hill; but
if you wish to be noticed, and chased, go into a highland
village, and just conceal your name for a bit! Ah—he
knows the difference, well, who has tried both modes of
life!”
“This is true, Cuffe,” observed the Baronet, “and yet I
hardly think a Frenchman, big or little, would be apt to
come and anchor under Nelson's nose.”
“'T would be something like the lion's lying down with
the lamb, certainly, and ought not to be counted on as very
likely. Mr. Winchester, is not that our boat coming round
the sloop's quarter?”
“Yes, sir—she has got back from Naples—quarter-master—”
“Ay, quarter-master” — interrupted Cuffe, sternly — “a
pretty look-out is this! Here is our own boat close in upon
us, and not a word from your lips on the interesting subject,
sir!”
This word, sir, is much used on board a man-of-war, and
in all its convertible significations. From the inferior to the
superior, it comes as natural, as if it were a gift from above;
from equal to equal, it has a ceremonious and be-on-your-guard
air, that sometimes means respect, sometimes disrespect;
while, from a captain to a quarter-master, it always
means reproof, if it do not mean menace. In discussions of
this sort, it is wisest for the weaker party to be silent; and
nowhere is this truth sooner learned, than on ship-board.
The quarter-master, consequently, made no answer, and the
gig came alongside, bringing back the officer who had carried
the proceedings of the court up to Naples.
“Here we have it,” said Cuffe, opening the important document,
as soon as he and his brother captains were again in
the cabin. `Approved—ordered that the sentence be carried
into execution on board his Majesty's ship, the Proserpine,
Captain Cuffe, to-morrow, between the hours of sunrise
and sun-set.”'
Then followed the date, and the well-known signature of
“Nelson and Bronté.” All this was what Cuffe both
wished and expected, though he would have preferred a little
more grace in carrying out the orders. The reader is not
to suppose from this, that our captain was either vengeful
or bloody-minded; or that he really desired to inflict on
Raoul any penalty for the manner in which he had baffled
his own designs and caused his crew to suffer. So far from
this, his intention was to use the sentence to extort from the
prisoner a confession of the orders he had given to those
left in the lugger, and then to use this confession as a means
of obtaining his pardon, with a transfer to a prison-ship.
Cuffe had no great veneration for privateersmen, nor was
his estimate of their morality at all unreasonable, when he
inferred that one, who served with gain for his principal
object, would not long hesitate about purchasing his own life,
by the betrayal of a secret like that he now asked. Had
Raoul belonged even to a republican navy, the English man-of-war's-man
might have hesitated about carrying out his
plan; but, with the master of a corsair, it appeared to be
the most natural thing imaginable to attempt its execution.
Both Sir Frederick and Lyon viewed the matter in the
same light; and, now that everything was legally done that
was necessary to the design, the capture of the lugger was
deemed more than half accomplished.
“It is somewhat afflicting, too, Cuffe,” observed Sir Frederick,
in his drawling, indolent way; “it is somewhat
afflicting, too, Cuffe, to be compelled to betray one's friends,
or to be hanged! In parliament, now, we say we 'll be
hanged if we do, and here you say you 'll be hanged if
you don't.”
“Poh, poh, Dashwood; no one expects this Raoul Yvard
will come to that fate, for no one thinks he will hold out.
We shall get the lugger, and that will be the end of it. I 'd
give a thousand pounds to see that d—d Few-Folly at
My feelings are in the matter.”
“Five hundred would be a high price,” observed Lyon,
drily. “I much doubt if the shares of us three come to as
much as a hundred apiece, even should the craft fall into
our hands.”
“By the way, gents,” put in Sir Frederick, gaping—
“suppose we toss up, or throw the dice, to see which shall
have all, on the supposition we get her within the next
twenty-four hours, timing the affair by this ship's chronometers.
You 've dice on board, I dare say, Cuffe, and we
can make a regular time of it, here, for half an hour, and
no one the wiser.”
“Your pardon, Captain Dashwood; I can suffer no such
amusement. It is unmilitary, and contrary to regulations;
and, then, hundreds are not as plenty with Lyon and myself,
as they are with you. I like to pocket my prize-money
first, and sport on it, afterwards.”
“You 're right, Captain Cuffe,” said Lyon; “though
there can be no great innovation in sporting on Sir Frederick's
portion, if he see fit to indulge us. Money is an
agreeable acquisition beyond a doubt, and life is sweet to
saint and sinner alike; but I much question your facility in
persuading this Monshure Rawl to tell you his secret consairning
the lugger, in the manner ye anticipate.”
This opinion met with no favour; and after discussing the
point among themselves a little longer, the three captains
were on the point of separating, when Griffin burst into the
cabin, without even knocking, and altogether regardless of
the usual observances.
“One would think it blew a typhoon, Mr. Griffin,” said
Cuffe, coldly, “by the rate at which you run before it.”
“It 's an ill wind that blows no luck, sir,” answered the
lieutenant, actually panting for breath, so great had been
his haste to communicate what he had to say. “Our lookout,
on the heights above Campanella, has just signalled us
that he sees the lugger to the southward and eastward—
somewhere near the point of Piane, I suppose, sir; and what
is better, the wind is coming off-shore earlier than common
this evening.”
“That is news!” exclaimed Cuffe, rubbing his hands with
then make a signal to the other ships to do the same.
Now, gentlemen, we have the game in our own hands, and
let us see and play it skilfully. In a couple of hours it will
be dark, and our movements can all be made without being
seen. As the Proserpine is, perhaps, the fastest ship,”—at
this remark, Sir Frederick smiled ironically, while Lyon
raised his eyebrows like one who saw a marvel — “As the
Proserpine is, perhaps, the fastest ship, she ought to go the
farthest to leeward; and I will get under way, and stand
off to sea, keeping well to the northward and eastward, as
if I were running for the straits of Bonifacio, for instance,
until it gets to be dark, when I will haul up south, for a
couple of hours or so; then come up as high as south-east,
until we are to the southward of the gulf of Salerno. This
will be before daylight, if the wind stand. At daylight,
then, you may look out for me, off Piane, say two leagues,
and to seaward, I hope, of the lugger. You shall follow,
Sir Frederick, just as the sun sets, and keep in my wake, as
near as possible; heaving-to, however, at midnight. This
will bring you fairly abreast of the gulf, and about midway
between the two capes, a little west of south from Campanella.
Lyon, you can lie here until the night has fairly set
in, when you can pass between Capri and the cape, and run
down south two hours, and heave-to. This will place you
in a position to watch the passage to and from the gulf,
under the northern shore.”
“And this arrangement completed to your satisfaction,
Captain Cuffe,” asked Lyon, deliberately helping himself to
an enormous pinch of snuff, “what will be your pleasure in
the posterior evolutions?”
“Each ship must keep her station until the day has fairly
dawned. Should it turn out, as I trust it may, that we 've
got the le Few-Folly in-shore of us, all we 'll have to do,
will be to close in upon her, and drive her up, higher and
higher, into the Bay. She will naturally run into shallow
water; when we must anchor off, man the boats, send them
north and south of her, and let them board her, under cover
of our fire. If we find the lugger embayed, we 'll have her,
as sure as fate.”
“Very prettily conceived, Captain Cuffe; and in a way
find the heathen outside of us?”
“Then make sail in chase to seaward, each ship acting
for the best. Come, gentlemen, I do not wish to be inhospitable,
but the Proserpine must be off. She has a long
road before her; and the winds of this season of the year
can barely be counted on for an hour at a time.”
Cuffe being in such a hurry, his guests departed without
further ceremony. As for Sir Frederick, the first thing he
did, was to order dinner an hour earlier than he had intended,
and then to invite his surgeon and marine-officer,
two capital pairs of knives and forks, to come and share it
with him; after which, he sat down to play somewhat villanously
on a flute. Two hours later, he gave the necessary
orders to his first-lieutenant; after which, he troubled
himself very little about the frigate he commanded. Lyon,
on the other hand, sat down to a very frugal meal alone, as
soon as he found himself again in his sloop; first ordering
certain old sails to be got on deck, and to be mended for the
eighth or ninth time.
With the Proserpine it was different. Her capstan-bars
flew round, and one anchor was actually catted, by the time
her captain appeared on deck. The other soon followed,
the three topsails fell, were sheeted-home and hoisted, and
then sail was set after sail, until the ship went steadily past
the low promontory of Ana Capri, a cloud of canvass. Her
head was to the westward, inclining a little north; and had
there been any one to the southward, to watch her movements,
as there was not, so far as the eye could see, it would
have been supposed that she was standing over towards the
coast of Sardinia, most probably with an intention of passing,
by the Straits of Bonifacio, between that island and Corsica.
The wind being nearly east, and it blowing a good breeze,
the progress of the ship was such as promised to fulfil all
the expectations of her commander.
As the sun set, and darkness diffused itself over the Mediterranean,
the lighter steering-sails were taken in, and the
Proserpine brought the wind abeam, standing south. One
of the last things visible from the decks, besides the mountains
of the islands and of the main, the curling smoke of
Vesuvius, the blue void above and the bluer sea below, was
as might be, in her wake; Sir Frederick and his friends
still at table, but with a vigilant and industrious first-lieutenant
on deck, who was sufficient in himself for all that
was required of the vessel, in any emergency. The latter
had his orders, and he executed them with a precision and
attention that promised to leave nothing to be wished for.
On the other hand, the people of the Ringdove were kept at
work mending old sails until the hour to “knock-off work”
arrived; then the ship unmoored. At the proper time, the
remaining anchor was lifted, and the sloop went through the
pass, between Capri and Campanella, as directed, when
Lyon sent for the first-lieutenant to join him in his cabin.
“Look you here, McBean,” said Lyon, pointing to the
chart which lay on the table; “Captain Cuffe has just run
down off Piane, and will find himself well to leeward, when
the west wind comes to-morrow; Sir Frederick has followed,
famously clear of the land, and won't be in a much better
box. Now, this lugger must be pretty picking, if all they
say of her be true. Ten to one, but she has gold in her.
These corsairs are desperate rogues after the siller, and,
taking hull, sails, armament, head-money, and the scrapings
of the lockers together, I shouldn't marvel, if she come to
something as good as 8 or £10,000. This would be fair
dividing for a sloop, but would amount to a painfully small
trifle, as between the officers of three ships, after deducting
the admiral's share. What are you thinking of, Airchy?”
“Of just that, Captain Lyon. It would be dividing every
lieutenant's share by three, as well as every captain's.”
“That 's it, Airchy, and so ye 'll have a shairp look out,
on deck. There 'll be no occasion to run down quite as far
as Captain Cuffe suggested, ye 'll obsairve; for, if in the
bay, the lugger will work her way up towards this head-land,
and we 'll be all the more likely to fall in with her, by
keeping near it ourselves. Ye 'll take the idea?”
“It 's plain enou', Captain Lyon; and I 'll be obsairving
it. How is the law understood as respects dairkness?—I
understand that none share but such as are in sight; but is
dairkness deemed a legal impediment?”
“To be sure it is; the idea being that all who can see
may act. Now, if we catch the lugger before Captain Cuffe
can they aid and sustain us in the capture!".
"And you wish a shairp look-out, the night, Captain
Lyon?"
"That's just it, Airchy. Yell all be doing your best,
in the way of eyes, and we may get the logger alone.
'T would 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 towards his captain, than
towards 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, sometime to-morrow?"
It stands so on paper, Winchester ; but if he confess
where his logger 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
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?”
“'T was 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.”
“Ay, 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.”
“And so hang an innocent man for a treason that he
could not commit?”
“Why, Captain Cuffe, do you believe the fellow's whining
story about his being a Yankee? If that be true, we have
done him so much injustice already, as to make his case a
very hard one. For my part, I look upon all these fellows
as only so many disaffected Englishmen, and treat them
accordingly.”
“That is a sure way to quiet one's feelings, Winchester;
but it 's most too serious when it comes to hanging. If Bolt
deserve any punishment, he deserves death; and that is a
matter about which one ought to be tolerably certain, before
he pushes things too far. I 've sometimes had my doubts
about three or four of our people's being Englishmen, after
all.”
“There can be no certainty in these matters, unless one
could carry a parish register for the whole kingdom, in his
ship, Captain Cuffe. If they are not Englishmen, why do
they not produce satisfactory proofs to show it? That is
but reasonable, you must allow, sir?”
“I don't know, Winchester; there are two sides to that
question, too. Suppose the King of Naples should seize
one of his subjects?—How would you go to work to make
it out—no parish register being at hand?”
“Well, then, Captain Cuffe, if we are so very wrong, we
had better give all these men up, at once—though one of
them is the very best hand in the ship; I think it right to
tell you that, sir.”
“There is a wide difference, sir, between giving a man
up, and hanging him. We are short-handed as it is, and
cannot spare a single man. I 've been looking over your
station bills, and they never appeared so feeble before. We
want eighteen or nineteen good seamen to make them respectable
again; and, though this Bolt is no great matter,
as a seaman, he can turn his hand to so many things, that
he was as useful as the boatswain. In a word, we cannot
spare him; either to let him go, or to hang him; even were
the latter just.”
“I 'm sure, sir, I desire to do nothing unjust, and so act
your pleasure in the affair.”
“My pleasure is just this then, Winchester. We must
turn Bolt to duty. If the fellow is really an American, it
would be a wretched business even to flog him for desertion;
and as to treason, you know, there can be none without
allegiance. Nelson gives me a discretion, and so we 'll act
on the safe side, and just turn him over to duty again.
When there comes an opportunity, I 'll inquire into the facts
of his case, and if he can make out that he is not an Englishman,
why he must be discharged. The ship will be
going home in a year or two, when everything can be
settled fairly and deliberately. I dare say, Bolt will not
object to the terms.”
“Perhaps not, sir. Then there 's the crew, Captain
Cuffe.—They may think it strange, treason and desertion go
unpunished! These fellows talk and reason more than is
always known, aft.”
I 've thought of all that, Winchester. I dare say you
have heard of such a thing as a King's evidence?—Well,
here has Raoul Yvard been tried and found guilty as a spy;
Bolt having been a witness. A few remarks judiciously
made, may throw everything off on that tack; and appearances
will be preserved, so far as discipline is concerned.”
“Yes, sir, that might be done, it 's true; but an uneasy
berth will the poor devil have of it, if the people fancy he
has been a King's evidence! Men of that class hate a
traitor worse than they do crime, Captain Cuffe, and they 'll
ride Bolt down like the main tack.”
“Perhaps not; and if they do, 'twill not be as bad as
hanging. The fellow must think himself luckily out of a
bad scrape, and thank God for all his mercies. You can
see that he suffers nothing unreasonable, or greatly out of
the way. So send an order to the master-at-arms to knock
the irons off the chap, and send him to duty, before you
turn in, Winchester.”
This settled the matter as to Ithuel, for the moment, at
least. Cuffe was one of those men who was indisposed to
push things too far, while he found it difficult to do his
whole duty. There was not an officer in the Proserpine
who had any serious doubts about the true country of Bolt,
though there was not one officer, among them all, who
would openly avow it. There was too much “granite”
about Ithuel to permit Englishmen long to be deceived,
and that very language on which the impressed man so
much prided himself, would have betrayed his origin, had
other evidence been wanting. Still there was a tenacity
about an English ship of war, in that day, that did not
easily permit an athletic hand to escape its grasp, when it had
once closed upon him. In a great and enterprising service,
like that of Great Britain, an esprit de corps existed in the
respective ships, which made them the rivals of each other,
and men being the great essentials of efficiency, a single
seaman was relinquished with a reluctance that must have
been witnessed, fully to be understood. Cuffe, consequently,
could not make up his mind to do full justice to Ithuel, while
he could not make up his mind to push injustice so far as
trial and punishment. Nelson had left him a discretion, as
has been said, and this he chose to use in the manner just
mentioned.
Had the case of the New Hampshire man been fairly
brought before the British Admiral, his discharge would
have been ordered without hesitation. Nelson was too far
removed from the competition of the separate ships, and
ordinarily under the control of too high motives, to be
in his country's service; for it was only while under the
malign influence to which there has already been allusion,
that he ceased to be high-minded and just. Prejudiced he
was, and in some cases, exceedingly so; America standing
but little better in his eyes than France herself. For the
first of these antipathies he had some apology; since in
addition to the aversion that was naturally produced by the
history of the cis-atlantic Republic, accident had thrown him
in the way, in the West Indies, of ascertaining the frauds,
deceptions, and cupidities of a class of men that never exhibit
national character in its brightest and most alluring
colours. Still, he was too upright of mind, willingly to
countenance injustice, and too chivalrous to oppress. But
Ithuel had fallen into the hands of one who fell far short of
the high qualities of the Admiral, while, at the same time,
he kept clear of his more prominent weaknesses, and who
was brought within the sphere of the competition between
the respective ships and their crews.
Winchester, of course, obeyed his orders. He roused the
master-at-arms from his hammock, and directed him to
bring Ithuel Bolt to the quarter-deck.
“In consequence of what took place this morning,” said
the first-lieutenant, in a voice loud enough to be heard by all
near him, “Captain Cuffe has seen fit to order you to be
released, Bolt, and turned to duty again. You will know
how to appreciate this leniency, and will serve with greater
zeal than ever, I make no doubt. Never forget that you
have been with a yard-rope, as it might be, round your neck.
In the morning you will be stationed and berthed anew.”
Ithuel was too shrewd to answer. He fully understood the
reason why he escaped punishment, and it increased his
hopes of eventually escaping from the service itself. Still
he gagged a little at the idea of passing for one who peached
—or for a “State's-evidence” as he called it; that character
involving more of sin, in vulgar eyes, than the commission
of a thousand legal crimes. This gave Winchester no concern.
After dismissing his man, he gossiped a minute or
two with Yelverton, who had the watch, gaped once or twice
somewhat provokingly, and going below, was in a deep sleep
in ten minutes.
| CHAPTER IV. The wing-and-wing, or, Le Feu-follet | |