he lighted
a pipe and said aloud, "She's salted like Christmas pork." As he spoke,
he cast an approving eye on a young fellow who sat at ease in the lower
rigging, laughing as the brig rolled over and a deluge of water flushed
the deck and made the skipper on the after-hatch lift his feet out of
the way of the wash.

"Hi, there, Wicount," called the captain, "she's enjoying of herself
like a young duck in a pond."

De Courval called out a gay reply, lost, as the ship rolled, in the
rattle of storm-loosened stays and the clatter of flapping sails.

Toward sunset the wind lessened, the sea-born billows fell away, and De
Courval dropped lightly on the deck, and, passing the master, went down
to the cabin.

Near to dusk of this pleasant evening of May the captain anchored off
Lewes, ordered a boat sent ashore, and a nip of rum all round for the
crew. Then, with a glass for himself, he lighted his pipe and sat down
on the cover of the companionway and drew the long breath of the victor
in a six-weeks' fight with the Atlantic in its most vicious mood. For an
hour he sat still, a well-contented man; then, aware of a curly head and
bronzed young face rising out of the companionway beside him, he said,
"You might find that coil of rope comfortable."

The young man, smiling as he sat down, accepted the offer of the
captain's tobacco and said in easy English, with scarce a trace of
accent to betray his French origin: "My mother thanks you, sir, for your
constant care of her. I have no need to repeat my own thanks. We unhappy
_emigres_ who have worn out the hospitality of England, and no wonder,
find kindness such as yours as pleasant as it is rare. My mother fully
realizes what you have given us amid all your cares for the ship--and--"

"Oh, that's all right, Wicount," broke in the captain. "My time for
needing help and a cheery word may come any day on land or sea. Some one
will pay what seems to you a debt."

"Ah, well, here or hereafter," said the young man, gravely, and putting
out a hand, he wrung the broad, hairy paw of the sailor. "My mother will
come on deck to-morrow and speak for herself. Now she must rest. Is that
our boat?"

"Yes; I sent it ashore a while ago. There will be milk and eggs and
fresh vegetables for madam."

"Thank you," said De Courval. A slight, full feeling in the throat, a
little difficulty in controlling his features, betrayed the long strain
of much recent peril and a sense of practical k