“You are a sailor, I see,” said the soldier, his eyes running over the dress that Ethan had worn since his first day in the Ranger. The speaker was a handsome young fellow, with clear honest eyes, and a resolute face; in spite of himself Ethan liked his looks.
“I am,” he answered, promptly.
“Out of a man-of-war, I take it?”
“Yes, and looking for another of the same sort,” said Ethan.
The other regarded him with a peculiar expression, then asked:
“What part of England are you from?”
Ethan laughed lightly, and put the question aside.
“I’ll not answer that for certain reasons,” said he.
“No harm done, I hope, comrade,” spoke the young soldier.
“None at all,” said Ethan, easily.