m such of the men
as were able to attend, one of the fishermen tried them again with great
precision and slowness of speech, and with much solemnity of manner,
"What--part--o' the arth--d'ye hail fro',--lads?"

No answer, accompanied by a stare and a shake.

"Oh, it's o' no use," cried one, "let the poor lads a-be."

"Hallo! Dan," cried another, as a man forced his way through the
crowded room towards the fire, "you've bin in Toorkey, I believe; I say,
try them fellers wi' a screed o' Toorko. P'raps they'll make _that_
out."

The individual addressed was very different from the men amongst whom he
stood. He was a thin, slightly-made, yet strong and active young man,
in a very short grey coat, a very long striped vest, and very tight
corduroy trousers--a sort of compound of footman and jockey. In truth,
Daniel Horsey was both; being at once valet and groom to the romantic
Kenneth, whose fate it was, (according to the infallible Mrs Niven), to
be "drownded."

Dan's first inquiry was as to whether any one had seen his master, and
the tones in which the question was put betokened him, beyond all doubt,
a son of the Green Isle.

Being told that no one had seen his master, he was about to leave the
hut in quest of him when he was collared by several stout men, and
placed forcibly in front of a Russian with a huge red beard, who
appeared to be the least exhausted of the party.

"Come now, Dan, say somethin' to them Roosians."

"Arrah! d'ye think I'll spake a word av ye stick yer great ugly fists
into my jooglar veins like that? Hands off," he cried indignantly, "or
niver a taste o' spaitch ye'll git from me, bad or good. Besides, what
duv _I_ know about Roosian?"

"Ye've bin in Toorkey, han't ye?" inquired a fisherman.

"Troth I have, an' what o' that?" replied Dan, as his captors released
their hold of his collar.

"Ye can speak Toorko, can't ye?"

"Maybe I can," he replied cautiously.

"Well, I'm told that Toorkey lies to the suthard o' Roosia, just as
England lies to the suthard o' Scotland, an' so, mayhap, they'll
understand a bit Toorko."

"Faix, av they don't understand Thoorko better nor the English
understand Scotch, it's little speed I'll come wi' them," said Dan with
a leer. "Howsomediver, I'll give 'em a trial. I say, Mr Red-beard,
hubba doorum bobble moti squorum howko joski tearum thaddi whak? Come,
now, avic, let's hear what ye've got to say to that. An' mind what ye
spake, 'cause we