“Good-fellows!”
“And, lord, we have had our hands busy cramming lies back down these squeakers’ throats. Faugh! how some of these fat folk stink of the pit!”
“So you have heard lies, eh?”
Hopart and Guicheaux exchanged glances.
“Well, captain, there’s never a wind in seed-time but thistle-down’s a blowing. Certain lewd rogues had been puffing a tale of the fight at Mivoie.”
“To be sure.”
“What is more, captain, a harping devil made so bold as to blab of it at Cancale.”
“To Sieur Robert, eh?”
“Yes, and to madame.”
“And it was believed?”