knows every creek, and hole, and corner of the coast; how the tide runs
in--tide, half-tide, eddy, or current. That is his value. His name is
Morrison.

You observe that Jack Pickersgill has two excellent supporters in
Corbett and Morrison; his other men are good seamen, active and
obedient, which is all that he requires. I shall not particularly
introduce them.

'Now you may call for another litre, my lads, and that must be the last;
the tide is flowing fast, and we shall be afloat in half an hour, and we
have just the breeze we want. What d'ye think, Morrison, shall we have
dirt?'

'I've been looking just now, and if it were any other month in the year
I should say yes; but there's no trusting April, captain. Howsomever, if
it does blow off, I'll promise you a fog in three hours afterwards.'

'That will do as well. Corbett, have you settled with Duval?'

'Yes, after more noise and _charivari_ than a panic in the Stock
Exchange would make in England. He fought and squabbled for an hour, and
I found that, without some abatement, I never should have settled the
affair.'

'What did you let him off?'

'Seventeen sous,' replied Corbett, laughing.

'And that satisfied him?' inquired Pickersgill.

'Yes--it was all he could prove to be a _surfaire_: two of the knives
were a little rusty. But he will always have something off; he could not
be happy without it. I really think he would commit suicide if he had to
pay a bill without a deduction.'

'Let him live,' replied Pickersgill. 'Jeannette, a bottle of Volnay of
1811, and three glasses.'

Jeannette, who was the _fille de cabaret_, soon appeared with a bottle
of wine, seldom called for, except by the captain of the
_Happy-go-lucky_.

'You sail to-night?' said she, as she placed the bottle before him.

Pickersgill nodded his head.

'I had a strange dream,' said Jeannette; 'I thought you were all taken
by a revenue cutter, and put in a _cachot_. I went to see you, and I did
not know one of you again--you were all changed.'

'Very likely, Jeannette; you would not be the first who did not know
their friends again when in misfortune. There was nothing strange in
your dream.'

'_Mais, mon Dieu! je ne suis pas comme ca, moi._'

'No, that you are not, Jeannette; you are a good girl, and some of these
fine days I'll marry you,' said Corbett.

'_Doit etre bien beau ce jour la, par exemple_,' replied Jeannette,
laughing; 'you have promised to marry me every time y