The young man, smiling as he sat down, accepted the offer of the captain's tobacco and said in easy English, with scarce a trace of accent to betray his French origin: "My mother thanks you, sir, for your constant care of her. I have no need to repeat my own thanks. We unhappy émigrés who have worn out the hospitality of England, and no wonder, find kindness such as yours as pleasant as it is rare. My mother fully realizes what you have given us amid all your cares for the ship—and—"
"Oh, that's all right, Wicount," broke in the captain. "My time for needing help and a cheery word may come any day on land or sea. Some one will pay what seems to you a debt."
"Ah, well, here or hereafter," said the young man, gravely, and putting out a hand, he wrung the broad, hairy paw of the sailor. "My mother will come on deck to-morrow and speak for herself. Now she must rest. Is that our boat?"
"Yes; I sent it ashore a while ago. There will be milk and eggs and fresh vegetables for madam."
"Thank you," said De Courval. A slight, full feeling in the throat, a little difficulty in controlling his features, betrayed the long strain of much recent peril and a sense of practical kindness the more grateful for memories of bitter days in England and of far-away tragic days in France. With some effort to suppress emotion, he touched the captain's knee, saying, "Ah, my mother will enjoy the fresh food." And then, "What land is that?"
"Lewes, sir, and the sand-dunes. With the flood and a fair wind, we shall be off Chester by evening to-morrow. No night sailing for me on this bay, with never a light beyond Henlopen, and that's been there since '65. I know it all in daytime like I know my hand. Most usually we bide for the flood. I shall be right sorry to part with you. I've had time and again—Frenchies; I never took to them greatly,—but you're about half English. Why, you talk 'most as well as me. Where did you learn to be so handy with it?" De Courval smiled at this doubtful compliment.
"When my father was attached to our embassy in London,—that was when I was a lad,—I went to an English school, and then, too, we were some months in England, my mother and I, so I speak it fairly well. My mother never would learn it."
"Fairly well! Guess you do."
Then the talk fell away, and at last the younger man rose and said, "I shall go to bed early, for I want to be up at dawn to see this great river."