"Very well!... All the same, you are right, mon gars. She is different—and with reason. Her mother was well-born. She was daughter to old Godefroi of St. Heliers, the shipowner. Jean was sailing one of his ships. It was not a good match nor a suitable one. The old man turned them out, and Jean came here with her and his boys and settled on Brecqhou. It is as well you should know, for it may come into the account. Jean would make her into a lady like her mother. For me, I would like to see her an honest man's wife—that is, if he's able to keep her."
"I'm for the privateering," I said, jumping up as briskly as if I'd only to walk aboard.
"I'll wish you luck and pray for it, my boy."
"That should help. Good-bye, Aunt Jeanne!"
My mind was quite made up, but, all the same, I went to George Hamon to ask his advice and help in the matter, as I always had done in all kinds of matters, and never failed to get them. I found him strolling among his cabbages with his pipe in his mouth.
"Uncle George, I want your advice," I began, and he smiled knowingly.
"Aw! I know you, mon gars. You've made up your mind about something and you want me to help you get over your mother and grandfather. Isn't that about it? And what is it now?"
"I want to be up and doing and making something—"
"I understand."
"And privateering seems the best thing going. I want to try that. What do you say?"