some bad weather," the man remarked,
as they settled themselves on the nets. "I hope it will be so, for
then none of the boats will put out; and there will be no comments
on my staying at home, instead of going out as usual.

"And now, good night, and good sleep to you!"

"He is an honest-looking fellow," Terence said, when he had gone
out, "and I have no doubt what his wife says of him is true; but it
is not surprising that he held back at first. It is not everyone
that is prepared to run the risk of heavy punishment for the sake
of his wife's relations.

"This is not by any means bad; these nets make a very comfortable
bed."

The next morning, at daybreak, the fisherman came in with a can
containing hot coffee, two great slices of bread, and tin cups.

"Now, messieurs, when you have drank that I will stow you away. We
shifted most of the things yesterday, so as to make as comfortable
a bed for you as may be."

The nets were pulled off; and a mass of sails, ropes, and other
gear appeared underneath. One of the sails in the corner was pulled
away, and showed a vacant space, some six feet long and four feet
wide, extending down to the ground, which was covered by old nets.

"Now, messieurs, if you will get down there, I shall pile a couple
of sacks over and throw the nets on the top, and there is no fear
of your being disturbed. I will bring your meals in to you, and let
you know what is doing in the town; but I shall not come in oftener
than I can help. I shall leave the doors open, as usual."

They took their places in the hole, and the fisherman piled sails
and nets over the opening. There was no occasion to leave any
apertures for air, for the shed was roughly built, and there were
plenty of openings between the planks of which it was constructed.
They had, before he came in, divested themselves of their uniforms;
and these the fisherman put into a kit bag and carried indoors;
where his wife at once proceeded to cut them up, and thrust the
pieces into the fire.

"It is a pity," she said regretfully, "but it would never do to
leave them about. Think what a waistcoat I could have made for you,
Jules, out of this scarlet cloth. With the gold buttons it would
have been superb, and it would have been the envy of the quarter;
but it would never do."

"I should think not, Marie. Burn the clothes up, and give me the
buttons and gold lace. I will put them in a bag with some stones,
and drop them into the river.