the
evening. All at once Monk was roused from his half sleep, fictitious
perhaps, by a troop of soldiers, who came with joyous cries, and kicked
the poles of his tent with a humming noise as if on purpose to wake him.
There was no need of so much noise; the general opened his eyes quickly.

"Well, my children, what is going on now?" asked the general.

"General!" replied several voices at once, "General! you shall have some
supper."

"I have had my supper, gentlemen," replied he, quietly, "and was
comfortably digesting it, as you see. But come in, and tell me what
brings you hither."

"Good news, general."

"Bah! Has Lambert sent us word that he will fight to-morrow?"

"No, but we have just captured a fishing-boat conveying fish to
Newcastle."

"And you have done very wrong, my friends. These gentlemen from London
are delicate, must have their first course; you will put them sadly out
of humor this evening, and to-morrow they will be pitiless. It would
really be in good taste to send back to Lambert both his fish and his
fishermen, unless----" and the general reflected an instant.

"Tell me," continued he, "what are these fishermen, if you please?"

"Some Picard seamen who were fishing on the coasts of France or Holland,
and who have been thrown upon ours by a gale of wind."

"Do any among them speak our language?"

"The leader spoke some few words of English."

The mistrust of the general was awakened in proportion as fresh
information reached him. "That is well," said he. "I wish to see these
men, bring them to me."

An officer immediately went to fetch them.

"How many are there of them?" continued Monk; "and what is their
vessel?"

"There are ten or twelve of them, general, and they were aboard of a
kind of chasse-maree, as it is called--Dutch-built, apparently."

"And you say they were carrying fish to Lambert's camp?"

"Yes, general, and they seem to have had good luck in their fishing."

"Humph! we shall see that," said Monk.

At this moment the officer returned, bringing the leader of the
fishermen with him. He was a man from fifty to fifty-five years old,
but good-looking for his age. He was of middle height, and wore a
justaucorps of coarse wool, a cap pulled down over his eyes, a cutlass
hung from his belt, and he walked with the hesitation peculiar to
sailors, who, never knowing, thanks to the movement of the vessel,
whether their foot will be placed upon the plank or upon nothing, g