"Tiens! It is Monsieur Carré, is it not? And what may Monsieur Carré want here?" His tone was somewhat masterful, if not insolent. I felt an inclination to resent it, but bethought me in time that such could be no help to my plans, and that, moreover, nothing was to be gained by concealment.
"I came to see your father. Is he to be seen?"
"I want to join his ship there for the privateering. She's a beauty."
"Oh-ho! Tired of honest trading?"
"I didn't know privateering had become dishonest."
"Bit different from what you've been accustomed to, isn't it?"
"Bit more profitable anyway, so they say. Are you open for any hands?"
But Torode had turned and was in conversation with someone inside the rampart. I heard my own name mentioned, and presently he disappeared and his place was taken by an older man whom I knew instinctively for the great Torode himself.
A massive black head, and a grim dark face with a week's growth of bristling black hair about it, and a dark moustache,—a strong lowering face, and a pair of keen black eyes that bored holes in one; that was Torode of Herm as I first set eyes on him.