eam of us the second
time, and we hove-to. It was evident the French recognised us, and the
clamour that succeeded must have resembled that of Babel, when the people
began first to converse without making themselves understood. Knowing we
had no small boat, Monsieur Gallois lost no time, but lowering a yawl of
his own, he came alongside of us in person. As I had commanded the three
Frenchmen to remain below, he found no one on deck but Marble, Diogenes,
Neb and myself.

"Parbleu, Monsieur Vallingfort!" exclaimed the privateersman, saluting me
very civilly notwithstanding appearances--"_c'est bien extraordinaire_!
Vat you do vid me men--eh! Put 'em in ze zea, _comme avec le Anglais_?"

I was spared the necessity of any explanation, by the sudden appearance
of my own three prisoners, who disregarded my orders, and came rushing up
to their proper commander, open-mouthed and filled with zeal to relate all
that had passed. The whole three broke out at once, and a scene that was
sufficiently ludicrous followed. It was a continued volley of words,
exclamations, oaths, and compliments to the American character, so
blended, as to render it out of the question that Mons. Gallois could
understand them. The latter found himself obliged to appeal to me. I gave
a very frank account of the whole affair, in English; a language that my
captor understood much better than he spoke.

Mons. Gallois had the rapacity of a highwayman, but it was singularly
blended with French politeness. He had not always been a privateersman--a
calling that implies an undue love of gold; and he was quite capable of
distinguishing between right and wrong, in matters in which his own pocket
had no direct concern. As soon as he comprehended the affair, he began to
laugh, and to cry "Bon!" I saw he was in a good humour, and not likely to
resent what had happened; and I finished my history in somewhat sarcastic
language, portraying Mons. Le Gros's complaisance in quitting the ship and
in piloting her about the bay, a little drily, perhaps. There were sundry
"_sacr-r-r-es_" and "_betes_" uttered the while; but all came out freely
and without anger, as if Mons. Gallois thought a good joke the next thing
to a good prize.

"_Tenez, mon ami!_" he cried, squeezing my hand, as he looked round at the
corvette, now less than a league distant. "You are vat you Anglais call
'good fellow.' _J'admire votre esprit!_ You have escape _admirablement_,
and I shall have _vifs reg