Are you open for any hands ?" But Torode had turned and was in conversation with someone inside the rampart.

I heard my own name mentioned, and presently he disappeared and his place was taken by an older man whom I knew instinctively for the great Torode himself.
A massive black head, and a grim dark face with a week's growth of bristling black hair about it, and a dark moustache,--a strong lowering face, and a pair of keen black eyes that bored holes in one; that was Torode of Herm as I first set eyes on him.
He stared at me so long and fixedly, as if he had never seen anything like me before, that at last, out of sheer discomfort, I had to speak.
"Monsieur Torode ?" I asked, and after another staring pause, he said gruffly-- "B'en! I am Torode.

What is it you want ?" "A berth on your ship there." "And why?
Who are you, then ?" "Your son knows me.

My name is Carre,--Phil Carre.

I come from Sercq." "Where there ?" "Belfontaine." "Does your father live there ?" "He's dead these twenty years.