“Did my honour know Captain Breuer?” he asked, in crabbed French.
My honour was very pleased to confess that he did, though in truth my acquaintance with the skipper who had taken us round from Helvoetsluys went scarcely further than sufficed me to recall his name.
The best sailor ever canted ship! my Dutchman assured me with enthusiasm. How often have I heard the self-same sentiment from mariners? for there is something jovial and kind in the seaman's manner that makes him ever fond of the free, the brave and competent of his own calling, and ready to cry their merits round the rolling world.
A good seaman certainly!—I agreed heartily, though the man might have been merely middling for all I knew of him.
He would like nothing better than to have an hour with Captain Breuer, said Mynheer.
“And I, too,” said I quickly. “But for Captain Thurot's pressing desire that I should spend the evening here I should be in Breuer's cabin now. Next to being with him there I would reckon the privilege of having him here.”
There might be very little difficulty about that if my honour was willing, said Mynheer. They were old shipmates; had sailed the Zuyder Sea together, and drunken in a score of ports. Dearly indeed would he love to have some discourse with Breuer. But to take leave from the frigate and cross to the hoy—no! Captain Thurot would not care for him to do that.
“Why not have Breuer come to the frigate?” I asked, with my heart beating fast.
“Why, indeed?” repeated Mynheer with a laugh. “A hail across the harbour would not fetch him.”
“Then go for him,” said I, my heart beating faster than ever lest he should have some suspicion of my condition and desires.