“We were returning from Ostend, where some mackerel had already been seen, when a sharp wind from the south drove us from our course; then, seeing that it was useless to struggle against it, we let it drive us. It then became necessary, not to lose our fish, which were good, to go and sell them at the nearest English port, and that was Newcastle. We were told the opportunity was good, as there was an increase of population in the camp, an increase of population in the city; both, we were told, were full of gentlemen, very rich and very hungry. So we steered our course towards Newcastle.”
“And your companions, where are they?”
“Oh, my companions have remained on board; they are sailors without the least instruction.”
“Whilst you—” said Monk.
“Who, I?” said the patron, laughing; “I have sailed about with my father; and I know what is called a sou, a crown, a pistole, a louis, and a double louis, in all the languages of Europe; my crew, therefore, listen to me as they would to an oracle, and obey me as if I were an admiral.”
“Then it was you who preferred M. Lambert as the best customer?”
“Yes, certainly. And, to be frank, my lord, was I wrong?”
“You will see that by and by.”
“At all events, my lord, if there is a fault, the fault is mine; and my comrades should not be dealt hardly with on that account.”
“This is decidedly an intelligent, sharp fellow,” thought Monk. Then, after a few minutes’ silence employed in scrutinizing the fisherman,—“You come from Ostend, did you not say?” asked the general.