“Captain Keyser,” said Charles, “you must set sail immediately. Here is a traveler who wishes to freight your bark, and will pay you well; serve him well.” And the king drew back a few steps to allow Monk to speak to the fisherman.
“I wish to cross over into England,” said Monk, who spoke Dutch enough to make himself understood.
“This minute,” said the patron, “this very minute, if you wish it.”
“But will that be long?” said Monk.
“Not half an hour, your honor. My eldest son is at this moment preparing the boat, as we were going out fishing at three o’clock in the morning.”
“Well, is all arranged?” asked the king, drawing near.
“All but the price,” said the fisherman; “yes, sire.”
“That is my affair,” said Charles, “the gentleman is my friend.”
Monk started and looked at Charles on hearing this word.
“Very well, my lord,” replied Keyser. And at that moment they heard Keyser’s eldest son, signaling from the shore with the blast of a bull’s horn.