The two boats nearing each other, Joan stood up, saluting, and Lafarge did the same.
"Good-day, m'sieu'," said Joan, with assumed brusqueness, mischief lurking about her mouth. "What do you want?"
"Good-day, monsieur; I did not expect to confer with you."
"M'sieu'," said Joan, with well-acted dignity, "if you prefer to confer with the captain or Mr. Bissonnette, whom I believe you know in the matter of a pail, and—"
"No, no; pardon me, monsieur," said Lafarge more eagerly than was good for the play, "I am glad to confer with you, you will understand—you will understand—" He paused.
"What will I understand?"
"You will understand that I understand!" Lafarge waved meaningly towards the Ninety-Nine, but it had no effect at all. Joan would not give the game over into his hands.
"That sounds like a charade or a puzzle game. We are gentlemen on a serious errand, aren't we?"
"Yes," answered Lafarge, "perfect gentlemen on a perfectly serious errand!"
"Very well, m'sieu'. Have you come to surrender?" The splendid impudence of the thing stunned Lafarge, but he said: "I suppose one or the other ought to surrender; and naturally," he added with slow point, "it should be the weaker."