Monk shrugged his shoulders, without, however, being able to refrain from smiling at the same time.  “How is it that, being from the south, you come to fish on our coasts?”

“Because I have been fool enough to marry in Picardy.”

“Yes; but even Picardy is not England.”

“My lord, man shoves his boat into the sea, but God and the wind do the rest, and drive the boat where they please.”

“You had, then, no intention of landing on our coasts?”

“Never.”

“And what route were you steering?”

“We were returning from Ostend, where some mackerel had already been seen, when a sharp wind from the south drove us from our course; then, seeing that it was useless to struggle against it, we let it drive us.  It then became necessary, not to lose our fish, which were good, to go and sell them at the nearest English port, and that was Newcastle.  We were told the opportunity was good, as there was an increase of population in the camp, an increase of population in the city; both, we were told, were full of gentlemen, very rich and very hungry.  So we steered our course towards Newcastle.”

“And your companions, where are they?”

“Oh, my companions have remained on board; they are sailors without the least instruction.”

“Whilst you — " said Monk.

“Who, I?” said the patron, laughing; “I have sailed about with my father; and I know what is called a sou, a crown, a pistole, a louis, and a double louis, in all the languages of Europe; my crew, therefore, listen to me as they would to an oracle, and obey me as if I were an admiral.”

“Then it was you who preferred M. Lambert as the best customer?”

“Yes, certainly.  And, to be frank, my lord, was I wrong?”

“You will see that by and by.”

“At all events, my lord, if there is a fault, the fault is mine; and my comrades should not be dealt hardly with on that account.”

“This is decidedly an intelligent, sharp fellow,” thought Monk.  Then, after a few minutes’ silence employed in scrutinizing the fisherman, — “You come from Ostend, did you not say?” asked the general.

“Yes, my lord, in a straight line.”

“You have then heard of the affairs of the day; for I have no doubt that both in France and Holland they excite interest.  What is he doing who calls himself king of England?”

“Oh, my lord!” cried the fisherman, with loud and expansive frankness, “that is a lucky question, and you could not put it to anybody better than to me, for in truth I can make you a famous reply.  Imagine, my lord, that when putting into Ostend to sell the few mackerel we had caught, I saw the ex-king walking on the downs waiting for his horses, which were to take him to the Hague.  He is a rather tall, pale man, with black hair, and somewhat hard-featured.  He looks ill, and I don’t think the air of Holland agrees with him.”