"Have I the honor of speaking to Captain Ducrot?" asked Claude.
"I am Captain Ducrot," said the other.
He was a small, wiry man, dressed with extreme neatness, who looked rather like an attorney than a seaman. His voice was thin and harsh,—his manner cold and repulsive, with an air of primness and formality that made him seem more like a machine than a man. The first sight of him made Claude feel as though any appeal to his humanity or generosity, or even justice, would be useless. He looked like an automaton, fit to obey the will of another, but without any independent will of his own. Nevertheless, Claude had no other resource; so he began:—
"I have asked for this interview, monsieur," said he, "from a conviction that there must be some mistake. Listen to me for a moment. I have lived in Boston all my life. I was on my way to Louisbourg, intending to go to France from there, on business. I had engaged a schooner to take me to Louisbourg; and at sea I came across a portion of the wreck of the Arethuse, with six people on board, one of whom was the Count de Cazeneau. I saved them all—that is, with the assistance of the captain of the schooner. After I brought them on board the schooner, I treated them all with the utmost kindness; and finally, when I saw your ship in the distance, I voluntarily sailed towards you, for the purpose of allowing my passengers to go on board. I had designed coming on board myself also, if your destination suited my views. And now, monsieur, for all this I find myself arrested, held here in prison, treated as a common felon, and all because I have saved the lives of some shipwrecked fellow-beings. Monsieur, it is not possible that this can be done with your knowledge. If you want confirmation of my words, ask the good priest Père Michel, and he will confirm all that I have said."
The captain listened to all this very patiently, and without any interruption. At length, as Claude ended, he replied,—
"But you yourself cannot suppose that you, as you say, are imprisoned merely for this. People do not arrest their benefactors merely because they are their benefactors; and if you have saved the life of his excellency, you cannot suppose that he has ordered your arrest for that sole reason. Monsieur has more good sense, and must understand well that there is some sort of charge against him."
"Monsieur," said Claude, "I swear to you I not only know no reason for my arrest, but I cannot even imagine one; and I entreat you, as a man of honor, to tell me what the charge against me is."
"Monsieur," said the captain, blandly, "we are both men of honor, of course. Of your honor I have no doubt. It is untouched. Every day men of honor, and of rank, too, are getting into difficulties; and whenever one meddles with political affairs it must be so."
"Political affairs!" cried Claude. "What have I to do with political affairs?"
The captain again smiled blandly.