"That is quite right, sir, and I recognised your yacht as soon as I saw your signal of distress. My name is Captain Mourez, and this is the French barque _La Bonne Esperance_, bound for Swansea. And now, sir, what would you like me to do with you and your crew? I see smoke ahead, which should come from some steamer bound for Rio. Shall I signal her and put you on board, or do you feel inclined to come on with us to Swansea?" Carew did not look in the captain's face, and his voice shook as he replied, "I should esteem it a great favour, Captain Mourez, if you would allow us to be your passengers as far as Swansea. I will of course repay you for this when we reach England." "Say nothing about that at present," replied the captain proudly. "You can do what you think proper when you reach port. A French sailor is always glad to assist other sailors in distress without the inducement of a reward for doing so." The boastful speech of the patriotic captain stated no more than the truth. French sailors rarely hesitate to risk their lives at sea in going to the rescue of their fellow-men; in this respect differing considerably from the mariners of some other European nations, who have acquired an unenviable notoriety for a selfish indifference to the sufferings of others. The captain looked from Carew to Baptiste. He could distinguish from the latter's accent and appearance that he was no common sailor. "This gentleman is your friend, I suppose?" he said. "My friend, and the mate of the yacht," replied Carew. "I was my own captain." "I see that you are a genuine English yachtsman. But surely this is a French gentleman?" "No, Captain Mourez," broke in Baptiste quickly; "I am an English subject, but I am a Creole of the Mauritius, and of French origin. Permit me to introduce myself. My name is Baptiste Fortier." "Very well," said the captain. "We can find room for your two men in the forecastle. You, Mr. Allen and Mr. Fortier, will occupy cabins aft. We have plenty to spare. Come below and I will show you round." They entered the saloon--a spacious one for a vessel of her size. There were four cabins on each side of it. Only two of these were occupied; one by the captain and another by his mate. Two others were now placed at the disposal of Carew and Baptiste. The captain made his two guests sit down with him at the saloon table, and produced a bottle of Bordeaux for their refreshment. The mate of _La Belle Esperance_ soon came below and joined the party. Though no drunkard, he was never far away when there was a drawing of corks. His name was Duval; he was a wiry, red-headed Norman, somewhat hot-tempered, but very garrulous and merry. Captain Mourez was a tall, handsome man, with black hair and beard, a Breton by birth, taciturn as a rule, but very courteous in his manners.