"And you think it right he should go?" interrupted my mother hastily. And, taken up as I was with my own concerns, I understood of a sudden that there was that between my mother and George Hamon which I had never dreamed of.
"I think he will never settle till he has been. And it's lawful business, and profitable, and your objection to the free-trading doesn't touch it. There is some discipline on a privateer, though it's not as bad as on a King's ship. My advice is—let him go."
"It's only natural, after all," said my grandfather, with a thoughtful nod. "Who's the best man to go with, George?"
"Torode of Herm makes most at it, they say. But—"
"A rough lot, I'm told, and he has to keep a tight hand on them. But I know nothing except from hearsay. I've never come across him yet."
"Jean Le Marchant could tell you more about him than anyone else round here," said Uncle George, looking musingly at me. "They have dealings together in trading matters, I believe. Then, they say, John Ozanne is fitting out a schooner in Peter Port. He's a good man, but how he'll shape at privateering I don't know."
"Who's going to command her?" I asked.
"John himself, I'm told."
"Then I'll go across and see Jean Le Marchant," I said.
At which prompt discounting of John Ozanne, Uncle George laughed out loud.