,
and his lips pursed up as if he were whistling silently. As a matter
of fact he was whispering to himself, "You shall rue this, my
gentleman!" But aloud he asked the somewhat puzzling question:

"Is that all, monsieur?"

"Why, yes," answered M. de la Pailletine, "except that you need have
no doubt I shall treat you with the respect which is your due, or
rather--"

"Pray proceed."

"--Or rather, with the respect which his Majesty thinks is your due."

"And which you do not."

"Excuse me, sir; I do not venture to set up my opinion against that
of King Lewis."

"Yes, yes, of course; but, monsieur, I was trying to get at your own
feelings. You do not think that a man who enlists against his own
country, even on the side of his rightful King, can be entitled to
any respect?"

"Excuse me--" began the Commodore; but Captain Salt interrupted with
a gentle wave of the hand.

"Tut, tut, my dear sir! Pray do not imagine that I resent this
expression of your feelings. On the contrary, I am grateful to you
for treating me so frankly. I have consolations. Your sovereign"--
he pointed to the letter which M. de la Pailletine was folding up and
placing in his breast-pocket--"has a more intelligent sense of my
merits and my honour."

"Doubtless, monsieur," the Commodore answered; "but permit me to
suggest that the discussion of these matters is out of place on deck.
Suffer me, therefore, to conduct you to my cabin, which is at your
disposal while you choose to honour us."

The Englishman bowed and followed his host below. Nor could
Tristram, who had heard every sentence of their conversation, feel
sufficiently thankful that he had finished painting the cabin windows
three days before, and was not obliged to expose his face to the
chance of recognition. And yet it is doubtful if he would have been
recognised, so direly had tribulation altered him. He finished his
work for the morning with less artistry than usual, and was drawn
upon deck shortly before the dinner-hour, by which time the galley's
complement was brought on board for a short cruise. As Tristram rose
and fell to his oar, that afternoon, he heard his father's voice just
over his head, and then the Commodore's answering it. Their tones
were not cordial; but their feet were pacing side by side, and it was
obvious that the Englishman had already in some measure abated the
Commodore's dislike.

Indeed, in the course of the next week Tristram learnt e