gone a hundred paces he found his companions, who were
whispering with a volubility which did not appear exempt
from uneasiness, but he made them a sign which seemed to
reassure them. "Hola, you fellows!" said the patron, "come
this way. His lordship, General Monk, has the generosity to
pay us for our fish, and the goodness to give us hospitality
for to-night."

The fishermen gathered round their leader, and, conducted by
Digby, the little troop proceeded towards the canteens, the
post, as may be remembered, which had been assigned them. As
they went along in the dark, the fishermen passed close to
the guards who were conducting the French gentleman to
General Monk. This gentleman was on horseback, and enveloped
in a large cloak, which prevented the patron from seeing
him, however great his curiosity might be. As to the
gentleman, ignorant that he was elbowing compatriots, he did
not pay any attention to the little troop.

The aid-de-camp settled his guests in a tolerably
comfortable tent, from which was dislodged an Irish canteen
woman, who went, with her six children, to sleep where she
could. A large fire was burning in front of this tent, and
threw its purple light over the grassy pools of the marsh,
rippled by a fresh breeze. The arrangements made, the
aid-de-camp wished the fishermen good-night, calling to
their notice that they might see from the door of the tent
the masts of their bark, which was tossing gently on the
Tweed, a proof that it had not yet sunk. The sight of this
appeared to delight the leader of the fishermen infinitely.