"At Bristol," said Bertram, "or any place on the coast of Wales."
"Bristol?--the devil! Coast of Wales? The devil's grandmother! Was the like ever heard?--Captain le Harnois to alter his course, the Trois fleurs de lys to tack and wear--drop her anchor and weigh her anchor, for a smock-faced vagabond?"
"But I thought, Sir,--that is, I understood,--that the Fleurs de lys was expressly purposing to cruize off the Welch coast?
"Expressly purposing a tobacco-box!--I tell you what, Tom Drum: there's a d---d deal too many rogues running about these seas--a d---d deal; and the English police is no great shakes of a police that doesn't look more sharply after them:--Who the devil are you?"
Bertram was preparing to answer this unceremonious question; but the Captain interrupted him--
"Aye: I can see with half an eye: an Abram man; a mumper; a knight of the post; that jumps up behind coaches, and cuts the straps of portmanteaus: steals into houses in the dusk: waylays poor old people and women, to rob them of their rags and their halfpence. For as to the highway, and cutting throats, I think he has hardly metal for that. Or may be he's a juggler; a rope-dancer; and plays off his hocus pocus on people's pockets?"
"Upon my word, Captain, you put unspeakable wrong upon me."
"With all my heart: God give you health to wear it!"
Touched to the quick by these affronts, Bertram drew out his pocket-book; and taking out some papers, he presented them with all the hauteur he could assume to the Captain; saying, at the same time----
"If, Sir, you will do me the honour to run your eye over my passport and the certificates annexed, I am disposed to think that I shall not need any further vindication from the suspicions you are pleased to intimate."