"_Assurement_, Monsieur Vattel has left more distinguished _souvenirs_ than any other cook in France." Captain Truck turned quickly to the elated and admiring Saunders, who felt his own glory enhanced by this important discovery, and said in that short-hand way he had of expressing himself to the chief of the pantry, "Do you hear that, sir; see and find out what they are, and dress me a dish of these _souvenirs_ as soon as we get in. I dare say they are to be had at the Fulton market, and mind while there to look out for some tongues and sounds. I've not made half a supper to-night, for the want of them. I dare say these _souvenirs_ are capital eating, if Monsieur Vattel thought so highly of them. Pray, mademoiselle, is the gentleman dead?" "Helas, oui! How could he live with a sword run through his body?" "Ha! killed in a duel, I declare; died fighting for his principles, if the truth were known! I shall have a double respect for his opinion, for this is the touchstone of a man's honesty. Mr. Sharp, let us take a glass of Geissenheimer to his memory; we might honour a less worthy man." As the captain poured out the liquor, a fall of several tons of water on the deck shook the entire ship, and one of the passengers in the hurricane-house, opening a door to ascertain the cause, the sound of the hissing waters and of the roaring winds came fresher and more distinct into the cabin. Mr. Truck cast an eye at the tell-tale over his head to ascertain the course of the ship, and paused just an instant, and then tossed off his wine. "This hint reminds me of my mission," Mr. Sharp re joined. "The ladies desire to know your opinion of the state of the weather?" "I owe them an answer, if it were only in gratitude for the hint about Vattel. Who the devil would have supposed the man ever was a cook! But these Frenchmen are not like the rest of mankind, and half the nation are cooks, or live by food, in some way or other." "And very good cooks, too, Monsieur le Capitaine," said Mademoiselle Viefville. "Monsieur Vattel did die for the honour of his art. He fell on his own sword, because the fish did not arrive in season for the dinner of the king." Captain Truck looked more astonished than ever. Then turning short round to the steward, he shook his head and exclaimed, "Do you hear that, sir? How often would you have died, if a sword had been run through you every time the fish was forgotten, or was too late'? Once, to a dead certainty, about these very tongues and sounds." "But the weather?" interrupted Mr. Sharp.