poor boy, but there was a
bar to this, as neither understood each other's language. Paul
followed, guessing this, and hoping that his knowledge of French might
be put into requisition. Alphonse, with his fiddle tucked under his
arm, entered the berth.

"Here's a young chap who is a first-rate hand with the catgut, and if
any of you can tell him that he is welcome in his own lingo, I wish you
would, mates," said Bruff.

"Mounseer, you are mucho welcomo to our bertho," exclaimed Blake.
"Here's to your healtho, Mounseer. I hope, Bruff, this is first-rate
French."

"It doesn't sound like it, but maybe he understands you, for he's bowing
to you in return," answered Bruff.

Similar attempts at speaking French were made; but, as may be supposed,
the young foreigner was as unable as at first to understand what was
said.

"How very ignorant they are," thought Paul. "I wish that they would let
me speak to him."

The young Frenchman, who was of an excitable disposition, at last
thinking that the English boys were laughing at him, began to lose
temper, and so did they, at what they considered his unexampled
stupidity.

Paul, who was standing near the door, mustering courage, at length
interpreted what was said into very fair French. The young stranger,
with a pleased smile, asked--

"What! can a poor boy like you speak my dear language?"

"Yes, I learned it of my sisters at home," answered Paul.

"Then we must be friends, for you can sympathise with me more than can
these," said Alphonse.

"Do not say so to them," observed Paul; "they may not like it. I am but
a poor ship's boy and their servant."

"Misfortune makes all people equal, and your tone of voice and the way
you speak French, convince me that you are of gentle birth," said
Alphonse.

It is possible that the midshipmen might have looked at Paul with more
respect from hearing him speak a language of which they were ignorant,
though some sneered at him for talking the Frenchman's lingo.

Paul, as soon as he could leave the berth, hurried to the side of
Devereux. He found the surgeon there.

"Ah! come to look after your patient, boy?" said Mr Lancet. "You have
performed your duty so well, that I have begged Mr Order to relieve you
from your attendance on the young gentlemen, and to give you to me
altogether."

Paul thanked Mr Lancet, but told him frankly, that though he was very
glad to be of service to Mr Devereux, or to any other wounded shipm