"Whar from you come, oui?" he asked.
"We were wrecked and—and, is there a house near?" Bob replied.
"Oui, ver' close by," the man told them and then, putting his hands to his mouth shouted: "Hey Jacques, Pierre, come queek, queek."
It seemed that he had hardly called before an answering shout came through the night and two forms, dimly seen at first, soon joined them.
"You tak' heem to the house queek," the man ordered, and as the others picked up the captain as though he was a child, he turned to the boys.
"You think you walk heem? Eet's just behind that bush clump."
"Sure, we're all right," Bob assured him as they started off through the snow.
As they rounded the clump of bushes a good sized log cabin loomed before them and, in another minute, they were inside in front of a roaring fireplace.
"You geet dem wet things off queek now and tak' one bon rub with deese towel," their benefactor ordered as he pulled a couple of coarse, but clean towels from a chest. "Dem boys dey look after heem," he added nodding toward the other side of the fire where Jacques and Pierre were already at work stripping the wet clothing from the captain.
"Is—is he alive?" Bob asked.