“The City of Brest.”
“That was not the name on the handbill we saw; was it, Mr. Raimundo?”
“Yes,—Ville de Brest.”
“That was it,” added Bark.
“Well, that is the French of City of Brest,” laughed the second master. “Don’t you speak French?”
“I know a little of it; and I know that a ‘ville’ is a city; but I didn’t understand it as you spoke the word.”
“I learned all the French I know in the academy squadron; and I can get along very well with it. I have spent a whole evening where nothing but French was spoken by the party. Professor Badois never speaks a word of English to me.”
“And you speak Italian and German besides, Mr. Raimundo.”
“I can get along with them, as I can with French.”
“That makes five languages you speak.”