His unwelcome visitor held out his hand, and wrung that of Captain Corbet with affectionate cordiality.
“Didn’t expect to see you back again in these parts so soon. You must have made a fine run of it, too. How far did you go? Not to the Bay of Islands—hey? Why, there’s been a reg’lar old-fashioned calm about here, and this here wind ain’t much to speak of. And how are my young friends, the ragamuffins?”
“Wal—pooty tol’able,” said Captain Corbet, in a faint voice.
“Hm—glad to hear it. And where was it, did you say, that you went to?”
“O—a—kine o’—genral sort o’ kerrews, like.”
“Hm—and so you left them in the Bay of Islands?”
“Wal—n—n—no—, ’twan’t exactly thereabouts.”
“O—not Anticosti?”
“Wal—n—no,” said Captain Corbet, with an increasing sense of discomfort.
“Ah, St. Pierre?”