n
the boat, waiting for orders.

"Come on board, D'Arcy," said Hanks at length, looking over the side.
"We'll lower the wherry's sails, and tow her astern."

I gladly jumped out of her when we had stowed her canvas and made fast
the painter. Our prize turned out to be a valuable one, for she had not
only spirits, but silk and lace on board. Her papers clearly proved
also that these goods were intended to be smuggled, so I remember Hanks
saying; but how that was I did not trouble myself, nor do I to this day
know. The smugglers, as well as they might, were certainly sulky; and
Hanks, as a gentle hint for them to behave themselves, stationed a man
with a double-barrelled pistol in his hand close to them, while they
stood huddled together on the little forecastle. I took the helm, while
the sails were trimmed and a course shaped for the Needles. In a short
time a breeze sprang up, and we spanked along at a furious rate. The
French skipper had now recovered, and getting on his legs, with a polite
bow, expressed a hope, in tolerable English, that we would make
ourselves at home on board his vessel.

"No fear of that, monsieur," answered Hanks. "Cool, is he not, D'Arcy?"

"You no have taken dinner, sare," continued the skipper. "I will tell
de cook to make dinner ready."

"Not a bad idea, monsieur," said Hanks. "Which of you chaps is cook?"

The Frenchman pointed to the fellow whose head Jack had nearly broken.
He spoke a few words to him, and the man--having got up and stretched
himself to ascertain, I suppose, that no bones were broken--dived below,
and presently returned with a white cap and apron, and several pans and
dishes, and began busying himself in the mysteries of his art. Again he
dived, the fire in the forepeak burned up brightly, and savory smells
began to ascend therefrom. In about an hour the skipper, with another
bow, invited us into his little well-like cabin aft, where a collation,
such as an epicure might envy, was placed before us. What were its
component parts I did not inquire. They may have been cats and frogs,
but neither Hanks nor I were in any way particular, and no dreadful
surmises crossed my mind. An Englishman would have broached a keg of
brandy, but our friend, Monsieur Didot, placed a bottle of
fine-flavoured claret and a variety of first-rate liqueurs before us,
not that either Hanks or I was well able to appreciate the former.

"Come, monsieur, hand us out a bottle of so