“Good morning, Ladoc,” said he; “you rise early.”
“Oui, sair; mais, you gits up more earlier.”
“Yes, I am fond of morning air. The fishery prospers, I see.”
“It doos, monsieur,” said Ladoc, accepting the remark as a compliment to himself; “ve have catch fifteen casks already, and they is in most splendid condition.”
“Hum!” ejaculated Jack, with a doubtful look at a cask which was evidently leaking, “hum! yes, you are getting on pretty well, but—”
Here Jack “hummed” again, and looked pointedly at one of the large vats, which was also leaking, and around which there was a great deal of salt that had been scattered carelessly on the ground. Raising big eyes to the roof of the low shed in which the salt-boxes stood, he touched with his stick a torn piece of its tarpaulin covering, through which rain had found its way in bad weather. He “hummed” again, but said nothing, for he saw that Ladoc was a little disconcerted.
After some minutes Jack turned to his companion with a bland smile, and said—
“The next station is—how many miles did you say?”
“Six, monsieur.”
“Ah, six! well, let us go up and see it. You can show me the way.”