At that moment Harley, raising his hand as if to silence the hoot, came
forth from the group by which he had been hitherto standing, and towards
him the count advanced with a bold stride.

"What trick is this?" he said, in French, fiercely. "I divine that it is
you whom I can single out for explanation and atonement."

"/Pardieu, Monsieur le Comte,/" answered Harley, in the same language,
which lends itself so well to polished sarcasm and high-bred enmity, "let
us distinguish. Explanation should come from me, I allow; but atonement
I have the honour to resign to yourself. This vessel--"

"Is mine!" cried the count. "Those men, who insult me, should be in my
pay."

"The men in your pay, Monsieur le Comte, are on shore, drinking success
to your voyage. But, anxious still to procure you the gratification of
being amongst your own countrymen, those whom I have taken into my pay
are still better Italians than the pirates whose place they supply;
perhaps not such good sailors; but then I have taken the liberty to add
to the equipment of a vessel which cost me too much to risk lightly, some
stout English seamen, who are mariners more practised than even your
pirates. Your grand mistake, Monsieur le Comte, is in thinking that the
'Flying Dutchman' is yours. With many apologies for interfering with
your intention to purchase it, I beg to inform you that Lord Spendquick
has kindly sold it to me. Nevertheless, Monsieur le Comte, for the next
few weeks I place it--men and all--at your service."

Peschiera smiled scornfully.