"You are very modest, Mr. Passford, and I will not offend you. I am not to speak of our mission before the Chateaugay is out of sight of land," said the detective, looking into the eyes of the young man with a gaze which seemed to reach the soul, for he was doubtless measuring the quality and calibre of his associate in the mission, as he called it, in which both were engaged. "I knew your father very well in Paris," he added, withdrawing his piercing gaze. "Then you are the gentleman who found the stewardess of the Bellevite when she ran away with a bag of French gold at Havre?" said Christy, opening his eyes. "I have the honor to be that person," replied Mr. Gilfleur, with one of his graceful bows. "It was a difficult case, for the woman was associated with one of the worst thieves of Paris, and it took me a month to run them down." "Though I was a small boy, I remember it very well, for I was on board of the Bellevite at the time," replied Christy. "I know that he was very enthusiastic in his praise of the wonderful skill of the person who recovered the money and sent the two thieves to prison. I understand now why my father sent to Paris for you when he needed a very skilful person of your profession." "Thank you, Mr. Passford; you know me now, and we shall be good friends." "No doubt of it; but here comes the captain, and I have a word to say to him," added Christy, as he touched his naval cap to the commander. "Allow me to introduce to you my friend Mr. Gilfleur, whom my father employed in Havre six years ago." The captain was as polite as the Frenchman, and gave him a hearty reception. Christy then suggested that his friend should be berthed in the ward room. The ship's steward was called, and directed to give Mr. Gilfleur a room next to the other passenger. As they were likely to have many conferences together in regard to the business on their hands, they were both particular in regard to the location of their rooms; and the chief steward suited them as well as he could. The detective spoke to him in French, but the steward could not understand a word he said. Christy inquired if any of the ward-room officers spoke the polite language, for his friend might sometimes wish to converse in his own tongue. "I don't believe they do, for they all got into the ward room through the hawse-hole," replied the steward, laughing at the very idea. When the passengers went on deck, the commander introduced them both to the officers of the ship. To each in turn, at the request of Christy, he put the question as to whether or not he could speak French; and they all replied promptly in the negative, and laughed at the inquiry. "Have you no one on board who speaks French, Captain Chantor?" asked Christy.