“You are Mr. Van Tromp?” he returned roughly, and without taking any notice of the proffered hand.
“The same, sir,” replied the Admiral. “Pray be seated.”
“No, sir,” said the Squire, point-blank, “I will not be seated. I am told that you are an admiral,” he added.
“No, sir, I am not an admiral,” returned Van Tromp, who now began to grow nettled and enter into the spirit of the interview.
“Then why do you call yourself one, sir?”
“I have to ask your pardon, I do not,” says Van Tromp, as grand as the Pope.
But nothing was of avail against the Squire.
“You sail under false colours from beginning to end,” he said. “Your very house was taken under a sham name.”
“It is not my house. I am my daughter’s guest,” replied the Admiral. “If it were my house——”
“Well?” said the Squire, “what then? hey?”