He found the old tiger on the quarterdeck, and in one of his blander humours. Captain le Harnois was sitting on a coil of rope, his back reclining against a carronade, with a keg of brandy on the dexter hand and a keg of whisky on the sinister. An air of grim good humour was spread over his features; he had just awaked from slumber; was for a few minutes sober; and had possibly forgotten the heterodoxy of his passenger; whom he saluted thus:
"Well, sweet Sir, and how goes the world with you?"
"Captain le Harnois, I understand that I can have a passage in the boat alongside; and I am really anxious to go ashore."
"Well, Tom, and what's to hinder it? The shore's big enough to hold you: and, if it isn't, I can't make it bigger."
"Then, Captain, I have the honour to wish you a very good evening."
"The same to you, Tom; and I have the honour, Tom, to drink your worship's health."
"I thank you, Sir; and perhaps you will allow me to leave a trifle to drink for the boat's crew that brought me aboard."
"Do, Tom, leave a trifle: I'll allow you to put fifty francs down on this whisky keg."
"Fifty francs, Captain le Harnois! Permit me to remind you that I only came aboard this morning, and that----"
"Jessamy, it's no use talking: fifty francs: we give no change here. And what the d---l? Would you think to treat the crew of the Fleurs de lys, four and forty picked men, with less than sixty franks?"