“You could not have a better opportunity of seeing France; and perhaps before long we shall be at loggerheads again, when no Englishman will be able to set foot in the country except as a prisoner; therefore go, and come back to us when you have got tired of frogs’ legs and soup maigre.”
In the evening I went down with Sinnet to the quay, where a man was pointed out to us as skipper of the lugger. We at once went up to him, and I told him that I wished to get across to France.
“I have no objection to take you, young gentleman, though we do not generally like having king’s officers on board our craft,” he answered.
“But I’m not on service now,” I observed, guessing the meaning of his allusion. “What sum do you expect for passage money?”
“Five guineas,” he answered. “I do not care to take less.”
“Five guineas you shall have, if you land me where I wish to go,” I said. “Now, when shall I be on board?”
“To-morrow morning at six o’clock. The tide will serve to carry us out at the Needles; and I don’t intend to wait a moment longer.”
“At six o’clock I will be on board, then; and, by the by, what is your name, captain?”
“Jack Long, though some call me little Jack,” answered the skipper, with a laugh.
“And your vessel, that there may be no mistake?”