"Yes, my lord; I'll roast it." "And what else, sir?" "Maintenon cutlets, my lord." "Maintenon cutlets! I hate them--I won't have them, sir. Let them be dressed _a l'ombre Chinoise_." "I don't know what that is, my lord." "I don't care for that, sirrah; if you don't find out by dinner-time, you're food for fishes--that all; you may go." The cook walked off wringing his hands and his night-cap as well--for he still held it in his right hand--and disappeared down the fore-hatchway. "I have done this to pay you a deserved compliment, ladies; you have more courage than the other sex." "Recollect that we have had confidence given to us in consequence of your pledging your word, my lord." "You do me, then, the honour of believing me?" "I did not until I saw you," replied Mrs Lascelles, "but now I am convinced that you will perform your promise." "You do, indeed, encourage me, madam, to pursue what is right," said Pickersgill, bowing; "for your approbation I should be most sorry to lose, still more sorry to prove myself unworthy of it." As the reader will observe, everything was going on remarkably well. CHAPTER SIX. THE SMUGGLING YACHT. Cecilia returned to the cabin, to ascertain whether her aunt was more composed; but Mrs Lascelles remained on deck. She was much pleased with Pickersgill; and they continued their conversation. Pickersgill entered into a defence of his conduct to Lord B---; and Mrs Lascelles could not but admit the provocation. After a long conversation she hinted at his profession, and how superior he appeared to be to such a lawless life. "You may be incredulous, madam," replied Pickersgill, "if I tell you that I have as good a right to quarter my arms as Lord B--- himself; and that I am not under my real name. Smuggling is, at all events, no crime; and I infinitely prefer the wild life I lead at the head of my men to being spurned by society because I am poor. The greatest crime in this country is poverty. I may, if I am fortunate, some day resume my name. You may, perhaps, meet me, and if you please, you may expose me." "That I should not be likely to do," replied the widow; "but still I regret to see a person, evidently intended for better things, employed in so disreputable a profession."