As Monsieur Le Compte's plan was
to proceed to the Spanish Main, in order to complete his contemplated
traffic in that quarter, no sooner were the tents prepared, than the
French began also to ship such articles of their own, as it had
originally been proposed to exchange for Spanish dollars. In the mean
time, we sat down to breakfast.
"_C'est la fortune de guerre!_--vat you call fortune of war,
_messieurs_," observed Captain Le Compte, whirling the stick in a
vessel of chocolate, in a very artistical manner, all the
while. "_Bon--c'est excellente--Antoin--_"
Antoin appeared in the shape of a well-smoked, copper-coloured
cabin-boy. He was told to take a small pitcher of the chocolate, with
Captain Le Compte's compliments to _mademoiselle_, and to tell
her there was now every prospect of their quitting the island in a
very few days, and of seeing _la belle France_, in the course of
the next four or five months. This was said in French, and rapidly,
with the vehemence of one who felt all he uttered, and more too but I
knew enough of the language to understand its drift.
"I suppose the fellow is generalizing on our misfortunes, in his
d----d lingo," growled Marble; "but, let him look out--he's not home
yet, by many a thousand miles!"
I endeavoured to explain it all to Marble; but it was useless; he
insisted the Frenchman was sending chocolate from his own table, to
his crew, in order to play the magnifico, on the score of his own good
luck.
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