The chief put this into French as well as he could, and the soldier immediately began a long and very rapid tirade, in which they caught the words “deux cent kilos de bois,” “hier soir,” and “batteau des gendarmes.” But he showed no inclination to open the door.
“What’s all that?” the Captain asked.
“As well as I can make it out,” the chief replied, “he says that he is the keeper of the castle, and he was detained on shore by the storm. When the wind abated early this morning he got a boatman to bring him out, and seeing a light in this cell he came up and found us here. That we came without permission, and burned up two hundred kilos of his wood (that’s nearly four hundred pounds), and that he is going to signal for the police boat and have us taken in charge.”
“Oh, that’s what he is after, is it?” the Captain laughed. “Then I know a language he will understand. Let me get there a moment.”
Again at the window, the Captain put his hand in his pocket and drew out a ten-franc gold piece which he held between his thumb and forefinger where the soldier could see it, and pointed toward the door.
Evidently that was the language he understood best. He immediately began to smile and reached for the gold, which the Captain handed him; and in thirty seconds more the big door was unbolted, and they all slipped out. The gold piece changed the aspect of affairs entirely. Instead of being their jailer the soldier tried to show them every attention; and while the chief exchanged a few polite words with him, Captain Griffith climbed the tower again, and found that the worst of the wind had died out, what was left coming from another quarter, so that there was no longer any difficulty about launching the boat.
It took some time to prepare to start, replacing the sail, packing the dishes, and getting the boat into the water; but the sun was just nicely up over the Corniche when they sailed into the Old Port again.
After reaching the North Cape, Kit soon went ashore to find the agents; but it was still much too early for the Captain to do any business at the Custom House, and he remained on board. Harry set about cleaning the cabin, making a great show of industry, but wondering all the time what the Captain would say or do to him. He had not forgotten the remark that Kit had made to him, long before, about the rope’s-end in the Captain’s room. To be sure, Captain Griffith had always treated him very kindly; but he had never before done anything quite as bad as to go to sleep on watch. The thought of the rope’s-end troubled him; and it was still troubling him when the Captain’s bell rang.
“Now I’m in for it!” he said to himself. “I’m glad there’s nobody else down here but the steward, anyhow.”
“Come in here and shut the door, Henry,” the Captain said, when he answered the call.