“'Ten thousand francs!' said I at last, as soon as I found breath,—'ten thousand francs!'
“'What!' cried the admiral, 'not content? Well, then, thou shalt have more; but I have rarely met one of your cloth with so mercenary a spirit.'
“'Stay, Admiral,' said I, as I saw him about to write a new order; 'we both are in an error here. You mistake me, and I you. An old admiral of the fleet ought to know his sailors better than to think that money is their highest reward; it never was so at least with Paul Dupont Let me have my book again.'
“'Come, come, Paul; I believe I understand you now,' laid he. 'Your warrant shall be made out this day.'
“'No, Admiral, it's too late,' said I. 'If that had come first, and from yourself, all well; but it looks like a bargain now, and I 'll not have promotion that way.'
“'Mort du diable!' said he, stamping with passion. 'But they 're all the same; these Bretons are as brutal in their obstinacy as their own cattle.'
“'You say true, Admiral,' said I; 'but if they're obstinate in wrong, they're resolute in right. You are a Breton gentleman; give me back my book.'
“'Take it,' said he, flinging it at me, 'and let me never see your face again.' And with that he left the cabin, and banged the door after him in a rage.
“And so, I went my way, Comrades, back to my ship, and served for many a long year after, carrying that book always in my breast, and thinking to myself, 'Well, what if thou art only a boatswain, Paul; thou hast wherewithal in thy keeping to make thee a commodore any day.'”
“And what can it be, then, this book?” said the party, in a breath.