to go. They are willing--at all
events they don't object."

"And why do you go against their wishes?"

"Well, it's this way, Monsieur Torode. I've been four voyages to the West
and there's no great things in it. I want to be doing something more for
myself."

"Why don't you try the free-trading?"

"Ah, there! We have never taken to the free-trading, but I don't know why."

"Afraid maybe."

"No, it's not that. There's more risk privateering."

"Well, then?"

"My folks don't like it. That's all I know."

"But they'll let you go privateering?"

"Yes," I said, with a shrug at my own lack of understanding on that point.
"Privateering's honest business after all."

"And free-trading isn't! You'll never make a privateer, mon gars. You're
too much in leading-strings."

"I don't know," I said, somewhat ruffled. "I have seen some service. We
fought a Frenchman in the West Indies, and I've been twice wrecked."

"So! Well, we're full up, and business is bad or we wouldn't be lying
here."

"And you won't give me a trial?"

"No!"

"And that's the last word?"

"That's the last word."

"Then I'll wish you good-day, monsieur. I must try elsewhere," and I
dropped into my seat and pulled away down the little roadstead.

Monsieur Torode was still leaning over the wall, and watching me fixedly,
when I turned the corner of the outer ridge of rocks and crept away
through the mazy channels towards Peter Port. When I got farther out, and
could get an occasional glimpse of the rampart, he was still leaning on it
and was still staring out at me just as I had left him.

CHAPTER XVII

HOW I WENT OUT WITH JOHN OZANNE

There was no difficulty in finding John Ozanne. I made out his burly figure
and red-whiskered face on the harbour wall before I had passed Castle
Cornet, and heard his big voice good-humouredly roaring to the men at work
in the rigging of a large schooner that lay alongside.

He greeted me with great goodwill.

"Why, surely, Phil," he said very heartily, in reply to my request. "It's
not your grandfather's boy I would be refusing, and it's a small boat that
won't take in one more. What does the old man say to your going?"

"He's willing, or I wouldn't be here."

"That's all right, then. What do you think of her?"

We were standing on the harbour wall, looking down on the schooner on which
the riggers were busy renewing her standing gear.

"A good staunch boat, I should say. What can you get