“You must confess,” continued he then, aloud, and addressing the fisherman—for his part of a suspicious man was imposed upon him by the object even of his mission—“you must confess, my dear monsieur, that these stones travel in a very curious fashion.”
“How so?” said the fisherman
“They come from Nantes or Painboeuf by the Loire, do they not?”
“With the tide.”
“That is convenient,—I don’t say it is not, but why do they not go straight from Saint-Nazaire to Belle-Isle?”
“Eh! because the chalands (barges) are fresh-water boats, and take the sea badly,” replied, the fisherman.
“That is not sufficient reason.”
“Pardon me, monsieur, one may see that you have never been a sailor, added the fisherman, not without a sort of disdain.
“Explain that to me, if you please, my good man. It appears to me that to come from Painboeuf to Pirial, and go from Pirial to Belle-Isle, is as if we went from Roche-Bernard to Nantes, and from Nantes to Pirial.”
“By water that would be the nearest way,” replied the fisherman imperturbably.