"What, man?" broke in Master Clarington. "Fez is not on the seacoast."
"Most certainly it is," said the scholar, imperturbably.
"'Tis not. I had an uncle, a merchant adventurer, was there once. He had to journey far inland."
"Oh, ay," said Holyday, a little staggered; "the city of Fez is inland, but the country borders on the sea. 'Twas that I meant."
"Nay, you spoke of the harbour; you must have meant the city."
"Tush, tush!" put in Ravenshaw, anxious to keep up the scholar's credit. "He meant the country; a fool could see that."
"Ay, truly," said Master Maylands, "a fool; but none else."
"I'll thank you for better manners," said Ravenshaw, sharply.
"Manners, thou braggart!" cried Maylands, seizing his opportunity. "Thou sponge, thou receptacle of cast clothing! Talk you of manners?"
"What!—what!—what!—what!" was all the answer the amazed captain could make for the moment.