"'Mais it is the hair most distinctive,' he said, in that funny way he speaks English. It certainly was distinctive, that hair; like a carrot for colour, and as wiry as nails. The sailor grunted.
"'Yes, it is the hair distinctive and original!' went on the barber; 'the colour, ah! it is not often one sees such in St. Pierre.'"
Knowing how red-headed chaps hate to have anyone mention the colour of their hair, I was half expecting that sailor to punch the barber one in the jaw. But all he did was grin.
"'Only one head is there to compare it with in St. Pierre,' went on the barber, who seemed really enthusiastic. 'Only one head, and that of a Frenchman.'
"'Never heard of a Frenchman with red hair before,' said the sailor.
"'There are many such in Normandy, oh yes. But this man I speak of he is only half French. He is part English, is the excellent Capitaine Pierre,' said the barber.
"When I heard that name I pricked up my ears. You never can tell, I thought; this might be the very Pierre Madame Roquierre was talking about.
"'That accounts for it,' said the sailor and I waited to hear what the barber would say. If he'd known how curious I was he couldn't have been more provoking, for what does he do but jaw about racial characteristics as revealed in the colour of complexion, hair, and so on, talk which the sailor couldn't understand even if he'd been listening. I got tired of hearing the jabber, and began to look at my paper again. By and by the sailor left, but there were two others before me. I didn't mind, as I had nothing to do, so I killed time by looking at my paper and looking out of the window alternately. The window, as you may have noticed, overlooks the square. And while I was looking out over the square I saw a tall man swaggering down the middle of it. And he had red hair!
"I know it was jumping to conclusions, but no sooner did I see him than I thought, 'That's Pierre!' and I made a bee-line for the door.
"Once out in the square I set about dogging the fellow, and a pretty chase he led me. He crossed the square, taking his time, visited a dock, two cafés, and finally he walked along the waterfront towards Roquierre's. He stopped to speak to a man on Buyez's wharf, but didn't stay long before he was off again. I was getting fond of the game by that time, and I forgot the hour, my hair-cut, and my appointment with you, so keen was I on finding out something about the fellow before I lost him.