e of Guernsey, which is part of the
British dominions?"

"Bah! it's all one, _mon ami_; we islanders are like the bat in the
fable--beast or bird, as it suits us--we belong to either country. For
my own part, I have a strong national affection for _both_."

The conversation was here interrupted by the entrance of the boatswain,
who had remained outside, in charge of the cask of rum, upon which he
had seated himself occupied with his Bible. "Here's assistance coming,
Mr Seymour. There's at least twenty or thirty men descending the
hill."

"Hurrah for old Ireland! they are the boys that will look after a friend
in distress," shouted Conolly, one of the seamen, who thus eulogised his
own countrymen, as he hung naked over the fire.

CHAPTER FIFTY SIX.

With dauntless hardihood
And brandish'd blade rush on him,
And shed the luscious liquor on the ground,
...though he and his cursed crew
Fierce sign of battle make, and menace high.
MILTON.

The information received from Mr Hardsett induced our hero to break off
his conversation with Debriseau, and he immediately quitted the hut. A
party of men, wild in their appearance and demeanour, were bounding down
through the rocks, flourishing their bludgeons over their heads, with
loud shouts. They soon arrived within a few yards of the shealing, and,
to the astonishment of Seymour and the boatswain, who, with a dozen
more, had resumed their clothes, seemed to eye them with hostile, rather
than with friendly glances. Their intentions were, however, soon
manifested by their pouncing upon the habiliments of the seamen which
were spread out to dry, holding them rolled up under one arm, while they
flourished their shillelahs in defiance with the other.

"Avast there, my lads!" cried the boatswain "why are you meddling with
those clothes?"

A shout, with confused answers in Irish, was the incomprehensible reply.

"Conolly," cried Seymour, "you can speak to them. Ask them what they
mean?"

Conolly addressed them in Irish, when an exchange of a few sentences
took place.

"Bloody end to the rapparees!" said Conolly, turning to our hero. "It's
helping themselves they're a'ter, instead of helping us. They say all
that comes on shore from a wreck is their own by right, and that they'll
have it. They asked me what was in the cask, and I told them it was the
cratur, sure enough, and they say that they must have it, and everything
else, and that if we don't