It was only because he felt sure that Anne, however willing he might be, would inevitably make a slip if required constantly to address him as Papa, that La Vireville had cast himself for the part of uncle in this speedily-imagined drama. Otherwise he might have played the part of the stricken husband rather than that of the sympathetic brother. Indeed, there would have been an advantage in the former rôle, for it would have spared him the captain's next and very natural question:
"Why the deuce does not your brother go after his wife himself?"
La Vireville made a gesture, and throwing his brother from a restive horse some seven days ago, remorselessly broke his leg.
"Where does he live, did you say?"
The émigré domiciled him distantly at Lyons, creating him at the same time a lawyer.
"I know Lyons well," observed the mariner unexpectedly. "You are an affectionate brother, citizen, and you have certainly made extraordinary speed if you have come from Lyons since that leg was broken a week ago."
This was unfortunately true, and La Vireville was forced to assign a date a little more remote to the accident, and to say he had made a slip of the tongue, proceeding afterwards to lay stress on the speed which the lover also might be presumed to be using.
"Well, my friend," remarked the sailor, "speed was never a characteristic of the Trois Frères. Moreover, I have a port or two of call, Dieppe among them. I cannot for the life of me see why you should not go to Caen by land, if you want to get there quickly. If you could post from Lyons to St. Valéry in—how many days did you say?—you ought to make Caen by nightfall!"
"Citizen captain," responded the harassed romancer earnestly, "speed, after all, is not everything in this case! Secrecy is even more important—let me explain to you how important, at this juncture." And he developed this theme, investing his brother's wife's lover with much money and influence, all of which he would use without scruple to circumvent the would-be rescuer, did he know his route. And, acutely conscious all the while of the improbability of his story, La Vireville concluded with a moving reference to the innocent child, about, perhaps, to lose his mother for ever, to the sanctity of the domestic hearth in danger of violation, and to the purity of moral principles inculcated by the glorious Republic. But the rhetoric which, a couple of years ago, would not have failed to move a demagogue who sent a daily score of heads to the guillotine, appeared to be without power over a peaceable and straightforward mariner. The orator indeed, feeling that he was wasting his time, and preparing in addition a net which would probably trip up his own feet, ceased at last disheartened.
His surprise was, therefore, all the greater when the master of the Trois Frères said slowly, "Very well, I will give you a passage to Caen." He fingered his chin in a dubious sort of way, looking, however, at his guest with a blue directness of gaze which was anything but undecided, and which the latter could only hope that he was supporting with sufficient firmness. "I suppose your papers are all in order?" he added.