Norton, Andre - Novel 08 by Yankee Privateer (v1.0) Page B

of the singers emphasized the end of each
chorus by bringing his bottle down hard upon the table. This amateur musical
director glanced up, caught Fitz's interested eyes, and grinned widely. A
moment later he was on his feet, walking with surefooted grace toward the
Americans' table.
                   "M'sieur," he sketched a bow,
"permit me, I am Alfonse Musat, first officer of the Sainte Anne,
privateer. We had the good fortune to enter the harbor in company this morning.
It has been a lucky voyage for both of us, no?"
                   His English was good, if heavily accented, and
the beaming good will with which he regarded their circle was contagious. Watts arose to the occasion.
                   "You are right, M'sieu' Musat. And you
must allow us to drink to a continuation of that luck! Will you join us—you and
your fellow officers, M'sieu'?"
                   "I, Alfonse Musat, will accept your
invitation. Those others, they do not have the English sufficient to speak. I
shall explain your kindness."
                   He raised his voice in a bull roar which
carried not only to the other table, Fitz thought, but probably all over the
harbor. And the cheers which answered his announcement proved that Watts ' offer was thoroughly understood and
appreciated. The waiters trotted out with a second round of bottles which were
greeted eagerly, and Fitz found himself raising his glass in answer to a rapid
incantation of which he was not able to translate a single word.
                   This courtesy over, Musat pulled up a stool
and joined in the conversation with a will, addressing most of his remarks to Watts , whom he must have considered the ranking
officer.
                   "Your voyage has been long?"
                   "Not too long. But this is a good port to
drop anchor in "
                   "Is it not?" Musat swelled with
pride. "The English dogs—they have never dared to put even the toes of
their sea boots on Saint Malo! We take our pick of their shipping at our will.
It is a good game to play, M'sieur, a very good game."
                   "How did you learn your English, Musat?" Fitz could not forego asking.
                   "In prison," the Malouin replied
frankly, with a flashing show of excellent teeth. "We took too many
prizes, were too greedy, and on the last boarding we were snapped up by a
sloop-of-war. So I was in prison, and there I learned to speak this barbarous
tongue. Since then Alfonse Musat does not push his luck, as you say. I have no
desire to taste English hospitality for the second time."
                   "You're deuced close to the English
here." For the first time Ninnes joined in the common talk. " Plymouth 's just over the way
"
                   Musat nodded. "The Channel is narrow
here, oui, that is true. But with St. Malo also here, we do not risk too much.
You are planning the Channel cruise, too —as did your famous Captain
Conyngham?"
                   Ninnes shrugged. "We go where our Captain
orders," he returned with a shortness which was almost deliberately rude.
                   "So. But I
thought that on American ships matters were ordered differently. That you,
gentlemen, might have a voice in future plans?"
                   "We have a lucky Captain," Ninnes
returned. "We let him pick our course."
                   "But of a certainty that is the best
way," Musat agreed good naturedly. "Fortune
is a fickle lady," he kissed the tips of his fingers to the unseen goddess, "she cannot be driven, only wooed. And if your
captain has her interest, then he is a man to follow without protest. I envy
you your future. There is rich picking in the Channel nowadays, enough for all.
And the English navy cannot be everywhere at once, much as it strives to
accomplish that feat. I note that you carried cargo, you are