‘Come; that is the best news he has brought us yet,’ said Humbert, laughing; ‘we shall at least surprise them a little. Ask him what men of rank or consequence live in the neighbourhood, and how are they affected towards the expedition?’
A few words, and a low dry laugh, made all the peasant’s reply.
‘Eh, what says he?’ asked Humbert.
‘He says, sir, that, except a Protestant bishop, there’s nothing of the rank of gentry here.’
‘I suppose we need scarcely expect his blessing on our efforts,’ said Humbert, with a hearty laugh. ‘What is he saying now?—what is he looking at?’
‘He says that we are now in the very best anchorage of the bay,’ said Conolly, ‘and that on the whole coast there’s not a safer spot.’
A brief consultation now took place between the general and naval officers, and in a few seconds the word was given to take in all sail and anchor.
‘I wish I could speak to that honest fellow myself,’ said Humbert, as he stood watching the fisherman, who, with a peasant curiosity, had now approached the mast, and was passing his fingers across the blades of the cutlasses as they stood in the sword-rack.
‘Sharp enough for the English, eh?’ cried Humbert, in French, but with a gesture that seemed at once intelligible. A dry nod of the head gave assent to the remark.
‘If I understand him aright,’ said Humbert, in a half-whisper to Conolly, ‘we are as little expected by our friends as by our enemies; and that there is little or no force in arms among the Irish.’