"My folks don't like it. That's all I know."

"But they'll let you go privateering?"

"Yes," I said, with a shrug at my own lack of understanding on that point.
"Privateering's honest business after all."

"And free-trading isn't! You'll never make a privateer, mon gars. You're
too much in leading-strings."

"I don't know," I said, somewhat ruffled. "I have seen some service. We
fought a Frenchman in the West Indies, and I've been twice wrecked."

"So! Well, we're full up, and business is bad or we wouldn't be lying
here."

"And you won't give me a trial?"

"No!"

"And that's the last word?"

"That's the last word."

"Then I'll wish you good-day, monsieur. I must try elsewhere," and I
dropped into my seat and pulled away down the little roadstead.

Monsieur Torode was still leaning over the wall, and watching me fixedly,
when I turned the corner of the outer ridge of rocks and crept away