season it's the only damn thing that'll pass. The divers'll dig up
from five to fifteen dollars a bottle for it, depending on the
French being on the job or not. Ain't that so, Gedge?"

"_C'est vrai_," Gedge assented. He spoke in French, ostensibly for
the benefit of M. L'Hermier des Plantes. That young governor of the
Marquesas was not given to saying much, his chief interest in life
appearing to be an ample black whisker, to which he devoted incessant
tender care. After a few words of broken English he had turned a
negligent attention to the pages of a Marquesan dictionary, in
preparation for his future labors among the natives. Gedge, however,
continued to talk in the language of courts.

It was obvious that McHenry's twenty-five years in French
possessions had not taught him the white man's language. He demanded
brusquely, "What are you _oui-oui_-ing for?" and occasionally
interjected a few words of bastard French in an attempt to be jovial.
To this Gedge paid little attention.

Gedge was chief of the commercial part of the expedition, and his
manner proclaimed it. Thin-lipped, cunning-eyed, but strong and
self-reliant, he was absorbed in the chances of trade. He had been
twenty years in the Marquesas islands. A shrewd man among kanakas,
unscrupulous by his own account, he had prospered. Now, after
selling his business, he was paying a last visit to his long-time
home to settle accounts.

"'Is old woman is a barefoot girl among the cannibals," Lying Bill
said to me later. "'E 'as given a 'ole army of ostriches to fortune,
'e 'as."