She was wont also, when she recalled her forebodings and the events that followed and so signally fulfilled them, to regret that when the Guernsey merchant took his leave, an hour later, she omitted to take note of his boots; it being an article of faith with her that, in his traffic with mortals, the Prince of Darkness could not help betraying himself by his cloven hoof.
In the garden meanwhile the Major and his guest were making very good weather of it, as we say in Troy; the one with his Madeira, the other with the brown sherry.

I leave the reader to discern the gist of their talk from its technicalities.
"Three gross of ankers, you say ?" queried the Major.
"At four gallons the anker, and six francs the gallon." "It is a large venture." "And, for that reason, dirt cheap.

To my knowledge there is not a firm in Guernsey at this moment doing trade at less than seven francs the gallon in parcels under five hundred gallons." "Yes, yes." The Major lit his pipe and puffed meditatively.

"I am not denying that.

Only, you see, on our side these large operations rather heighten the expense than diminish it, while they heighten the risk enormously." "I do not see." M.Dupin crossed his legs and awaited an explanation.
"It is simple.