"Eh, what says he?" asked Humbert. "He says, sir, that, except a Protestant bishop, there's nothing of the rank of gentry here." "I suppose we need scarcely expect _his_ blessing on our efforts," said Humbert, with a hearty laugh. "What is he saying now?--what is he looking at?" "He says we are now in the very best anchorage of the bay," said Conolly, "and that on the whole coast there's not a safer spot." A brief consultation now took place between the general and the naval officers, and in a few seconds the word was given to take in all sail, and anchor. "I wish I could speak to that honest fellow myself," said Humbert, as he stood watching the fisherman, who with a peasant's curiosity had now approached the mast, and was passing his fingers across the blades of the cutlasses, as they stood in the sword rack. "Sharp enough for the English, eh?" cried Humbert, in French, but with a gesture that seemed at once intelligible. A dry nod of the head gave assent to the remark. "If I understand him aright," said Humbert, in a half whisper to Conolly, "we are as little expected by our friends as by our enemies; and that there is little or no force in arms among the Irish." "There are plenty ready to fight, he says, sir, but none accustomed to discipline." A gesture, half contemptuous, was all Humbert's reply, and he now turned away and walked the deck alone and in silence. Meanwhile the bustle and movements of the crew continued, and soon the great ships, stripped of their white sails, lay tranquilly at anchor in a sea without a ripple. "A boat is coming out from the shore, general," whispered the lieutenant on duty. "Ask the fisherman if he knows it." Conolly drew the peasant's attention to the object, and the man, after looking steadily for a few seconds, became terribly agitated. "What is it, man--can't you tell who it is?" asked Conolly. But although so composed before, so ready with all his replies, he seemed now totally unmanned--his frank and easy features being struck with the signs of palpable terror. At last, and with an effort that bespoke all his fears, he muttered--"'Tis the king's boat is coming, and 'tis the collector's on board of her!" "Is that all?" cried Conolly, laughing, as he translated the reply to the general. "Won't you say that I'm a prisoner, sir; won't you tell them that you took me?" said the fisherman, in an accent of fervent entreaty, for already his mind anticipated the casualty of a failure, and what might betide him afterward; but no one now had any care for him or his fortunes--all was in preparation to conceal the national character of the ships. The marines were ordered below, and all others whose uniforms might betray their country, while the English colors floated from every mast-head.