Tell me," continued he, "what are these fishermen, if you please?"

"Some Picard seamen who were fishing on the coasts of France or Holland,
and who have been thrown upon ours by a gale of wind."

"Do any among them speak our language?"

"The leader spoke some few words of English."

The mistrust of the general was awakened in proportion as fresh
information reached him. "That is well," said he. "I wish to see these
men; bring them to me."

An officer immediately went to fetch them.

"How many are there of them?" continued Monk; "and what is their
vessel?"

"There are ten or twelve of them, general, and they were aboard of a
kind of _chasse-maree_, as it is called--Dutch-built, apparently."

"And you say they were carrying fish to Lambert's camp?"

"Yes, general, and they seem to have had good luck in their fishing."

"Humph! We shall see that," said Monk.

At this moment the officer returned, bringing the leader of the
fishermen with him. He was a man from fifty to fifty-five years old,
but good-looking for his age. He was of middle height, and wore a
_justaucorps_ of coarse wool, a cap pulled down over his eyes, a cutlass
hung from his belt, and he walked with the hesitation peculiar to
sailors, who, never knowing, thanks to the movement of the vessel,
whether their foot will be placed upon the plank or upon nothing, give
to every one of their steps a fall as firm as if they were driving a
pile. Monk, with an acute and penetrating look, examined the fisherman
for some time, while the latter smiled, with that smile, half cunning,
half silly, peculiar to French peasants.

"Do you speak English?" asked Monk, in excellent French.

"Ah! but badly, my lord," replied the fisherman.

This reply was made much more with the lively and sharp accentuation of
the people beyond the Loire, than with the slightly-drawling accent of
the countries of the west and north of France.

"But you do speak it?" persisted Monk, in order to examine his accent
once more.

"Eh! we men of the sea," replied the fisherman, "speak a little of all
languages."

"Then you are a sea fisherman?"

"I am at present, my lord--a fisherman, and a famous fisherman, too. I
have taken a barbel that weighs at least thirty pounds, and more
than fifty mullets; I have also some little whitings that will fry
beautifully."

"You appear to me to have fished more frequently in the Gulf of Gascony
than in the Channel," said Monk, smiling.

"Well,