g them both on shore with him.

Bill helped Jack, who was somewhat weak, to get on his clothes. They
then went on deck.

The vessel lay in a small harbour, protected by a reef of rocks from the
sea. Near the shore were a number of cottages, and on one side of the
harbour a line of cliffs running away to the eastward.

Several other small vessels and open boats lay at anchor around.

The captain, with the interpreter, whose name they found was Pierre, got
into the boat, the latter telling the lads to come with them.

They did as they were directed, sitting down in the stern-sheets, while
the captain and Pierre took the oars and pulled towards the shore.

It was now evening, and almost dark. They saw the lights shining in the
windows of several of the cottages.

Pierre was a young man about nineteen or twenty, and, they fancied, must
be the captain's son. They were right, they found, in their
conjectures.

Pierre made them understand, in his broken language, that he had some
short time before been a prisoner in England, where he had been treated
very kindly; but before he had time to learn much English, he had been
exchanged.

This had made him anxious to show kindness to the young English lads.

"Come along," said Pierre, as they reached the shore. "I show you my
house, my mere, and my soeur. They take care of you; but mind! you not
go out till dey tell you, or de gendarmes take you to prison perhaps.
Do not speak now till we get into de house."

Bill and Jack followed their guide while the old man rowed back to the
vessel.

Pierre led them to a cottage a little distance from the shore, which
appeared to be somewhat larger than those they had passed. He opened
the door, telling them to come in with him, when he immediately again
closed it.

A middle-aged woman and a young girl, in high white caps with flaps over
the shoulders, were seated spinning. They started up on seeing the two
young strangers, and began inquiring of Pierre who they were. His
explanation soon satisfied them, and jumping up, Madame Turgot and
Jeannette took their hands, and began pouring out in voluble language
their welcomes.

"You say `Merci! merci!'" said Pierre, "which means `Thank you! thank
you!'"

"Merci! merci!" said Jack and Bill.

It was the first word of French they learned, and, as Jack observed,
came in very convenient.

What the mother and her daughter said they could not make out, but they
understood well