"Is the Señorita de las Cuevas on board?"
"Yes."
"Then as long as the Señorita de las Cuevas is all right, all the rest may go to the devil."
The joke provoked much merriment in the crowd, until silence again reigned.
The ship now began to tack, being dragged ashore by the rope, which creaked with the tension of the hold; the people on the mole began talking with those on board, but they were silent and taciturn, being more concerned with the management of the ship than the questions directed to them. Then came a fresh ebullition of the jocose spirit of the sailors of the place, and fun was poked at those on board, more especially at a certain fellow who looked like a heap of skins, and whom they nicknamed Bruin, as he moved from one side to another with the awkwardness of a bear, handling the ropes and casting grunts of scorn at the crowd.
"I say, Bruin, you will be glad to have a dish of fish, eh?"
"Rejoice, O Bruin, for there is cider in Llandone's cellar."
"Is it hot in Norway?"
"Too hot for a rogue like you," growled Bruin, as he furled a sail.
This remark was received by the sailors with shouts of laughter.