The uniform was English, but the wearer did not look quite English, and he spoke in French. As a native of the Channel Islands the ancient mariner accosted should have understood that tongue, but for purposes of his own he affected not to do so. "Very fine they are, indeed, sir!" he replied, peering into his basket. "Comes from the rocks over by L'Etac, they do. You wants to now the price? Well, this one----" and he held out a freckled ebony form that slowly waved its spectral antennae at the young officer. The latter pushed it aside with an impatient cane. "No, no--I don't want one of those things to-day. I wish to know what that vessel down there is--and I am sure you understand me perfectly!" Having observed with one eye that the officer's other hand was moving in the direction of his waistcoat pocket, the seafarer turned both in the direction of the Frenchman's pointing cane. "Ah, yon, just about to make fast," he said, pointing, too, with the rejected lobster. "She'll likely be the Government sloop _Cormorant_, bound for Jersey, come in here with despatches. Thank you, sir! And you won't take this beauty home to your good lady?" But the young officer shook his head with a smile, and continued his downward path to the harbour. Although to many dwellers in a port, especially in an island port, the mere arrival and identification of a vessel is in itself a matter of interest, this young Frenchman had a particular reason for questioning the fisherman. The major of his regiment was ill; medicaments had been ordered from England, and Lieutenant Henri du Coudrais, finding himself unoccupied after an early parade, had offered, on news of the arrival of a sail, to go down to the harbour, instead of the major's servant, and ascertain if the drugs in question had come. But the sloop, when he got down to the quayside, had only just finished making fast. Evidently she had a passenger, for he observed among the sailors on her deck a tall man in a grey redingote, whose general appearance seemed, somehow, to be familiar. But he could not see his face, and thought no more about him till in a few moments he came over the gang-plank. And then, in one and the same instant, Henri du Coudrais saw that the passenger's left sleeve was pinned to his breast, and recognised him. A second later, and he had himself been recognised by those keen eyes. "M. du Coudrais!" called out the newcomer. "What good fortune brings you here? I was just about to ask my way to your lodging." The young officer had been stricken dumb for a moment. "M. de la Vireville!" he exclaimed at last. "Is it possible?" "Why not?" asked La Vireville, holding out his hand. "But I suppose you thought that I was dead?" "Indeed we did!" confessed his compatriot, grasping the proffered hand warmly. "After many inquiries, we were convinced at last. Then you escaped after all! But I am sorry to see . . ."