lity that made him seem more like a machine than a man. The
first sight of him made Claude feel as though any appeal to his
humanity or generosity, or even justice, would be useless. He looked
like an automaton, fit to obey the will of another, but without any
independent will of his own. Nevertheless, Claude had no other
resource; so he began:--

"I have asked for this interview, monsieur," said he, "from a
conviction that there must be some mistake. Listen to me for a
moment. I have lived in Boston all my life. I was on my way to
Louisbourg, intending to go to France from there, on business. I had
engaged a schooner to take me to Louisbourg; and at sea I came across
a portion of the wreck of the Arethuse, with six people on board, one
of whom was the Count de Cazeneau. I saved them all--that is, with
the assistance of the captain of the schooner. After I brought them
on board the schooner, I treated them all with the utmost kindness;
and finally, when I saw your ship in the distance, I voluntarily
sailed towards you, for the purpose of allowing my passengers to go
on board. I had designed coming on board myself also, if your
destination suited my views. And now, monsieur, for all this I find
myself arrested, held here in prison, treated as a common felon, and
all because I have saved the lives of some shipwrecked fellow-beings.
Monsieur, it is not possible that this can be done with your
knowledge. If you want confirmation of my words, ask the good priest
Pere Michel, and he will confirm all that I have said."

The captain listened to all this very patiently, and without any
interruption. At length, as Claude ended, he replied,--

"But you yourself cannot suppose that you, as you say, are imprisoned
merely for this. People do not arrest their benefactors merely
because they are their benefactors; and if you have saved the life of
his excellency, you cannot suppose that he has ordered your arrest
for that sole reason. Monsieur has more good sense, and must
understand well that there is some sort of charge against him."

"Monsieur," said Claude, "I swear to you I not only know no reason
for my arrest, but I cannot even imagine one; and I entreat you, as a
man of honor, to tell me what the charge against me is."

"Monsieur," said the captain, blandly, "we are both men of honor, of
course. Of your honor I have no doubt. It is untouched. Every day men
of honor, and of rank, too, are getting into difficulties; and
whe