"And it becomes ’ee," said Sherebiah. "Now mine bean’t so good a match; ’tis over long for one o’ my inches, and over proud for a man so meek: Sherebiah Stand-up-and-bless Minshull in the church book, but plain Sherry to them as I takes to, like young pa’son there." Harry was roused from his reverie at hearing himself mentioned. He looked for the first time at his fellow-passenger, who at that moment lifted his podgy right hand and pointed to a windmill in full sail a little distance from the road. "Ay sure, minds ’ee of home; your country’s full of mills, to be sure. Mebbe you be a miller, now?" The Dutchman waited to blow a great cloud from his mouth before he answered. "A sailor," he said; "but I have mills." "A skipper," rejoined Sherry, looking over his costume. "’Tis not for me to say, but to mortal eye you be more like a varmer.—’Tis a skipper from Holland," he added, including Harry in the conversation, "that has a mill or two to his name and smokes ’bacca out o’ Barbados." "Jan Grootz," said the Dutchman. Harry acknowledged the introduction, and remarked on the slowness of their progress over the rough road. On this Mynheer Grootz volunteered the remark that, having come all the way from Bristol, he would be glad when the journey was ended. By degrees he became still more communicative; and when the coach pulled up at Basingstoke for the mid-day meal, Harry had learnt that the Dutchman had been to Bristol to inspect a vessel of which he was part-owner, and which had come most fortunately to port after being first knocked about by a French privateer, then badly damaged by a storm. It was to the storm that she owed her escape from the Frenchman, and to her captain’s seamanship her escape from the storm. Grootz was particularly gratified at her safe arrival, for she represented a large amount not only to him personally, but to others who could ill afford to lose on a venture upon which he had persuaded them to embark. When the journey was resumed, the conversation became still more friendly. Harry liked the look of the Dutchman. His broad face with its wide nose and little eyes was not handsome, but its expression inspired confidence; and the careful slowness of his speech, and his habit of pointing with his forefinger when he wished to be emphatic, were a little amusing. He asked no questions, but Harry by and by found himself explaining his own position and relating the events that had led to it, and told him of his projected visit to Lord Godolphin. At this up came the forefinger.