"You understand," he went on to explain, as if urged thereto by the fixed glance of the clear blue eye--"you understand, it is none of my business.

I am only here as the Marquis de Gemosac's friend.

Know him in his own country, where I live most of the time." Clubbe nodded.
"Frenchman was picked up at sea fifty-five years ago this July," he narrated, bluntly, "by the 'Martha and Mary' brig of this port.

I was apprentice at the time.

Frenchman was a boy with fair hair and a womanish face.