So soon as Major de l'Oursière had regained the lugger's deck, and the vessel had stood off, after taking a parting glance at St. Honorat, whose outline was gradually disappearing in the mist, he walked aft, seized the manrope and went down into the cabin.
But on entering the cabin, which he supposed to be unoccupied, as the skipper was on deck, the Major with difficulty restrained an exclamation of surprise.
There was a man in the cabin, seated at a table, and contently imbibing rum and water, while smoking an enormous pipe, and forming an aureole around him of bluish smoke.
In this man the Major recognised Michael the Basque, the fisherman.
After a moment's hesitation, the Major walked in, although the presence of this individual aboard the lugger was rather singular. Still there was nothing in the thing that should terrify the Major, who had no reason to suppose that Michael was hostile to him, or that he had anything to apprehend from him.
At the noise made by the Major on entering the cabin, the sailor half turned to him, though without removing the pipe from his lips. After taking a pull at the glass he held in his right hand, he said in a bantering tone,—
"Why, if I am not mistaken, it is our estimable governor of St. Marguerite; delighted to see you, I am sure, Major."
"Why," the Major replied, in the same key, "it's that worthy fellow, Michael. By what chance do I find you here, when I had a right to suppose you engaged fishing, at this moment, Lord knows where?"
"Ah!" said Michael, with a laugh; "There's as good fishing here as anywhere. Won't you take a seat, Major, or are you afraid of compromising your dignity by sitting down by the side of a poor fellow like me?"
"You do not think that," the Major answered, as he seated himself.