He caught hold of the rope by which he hung, and looked again.
Beyond a doubt it was his father, Roderick Salt! Now just as Tristram underwent this shock of surprise, from a point about three yards above his head another person was watching the boat with some curiosity.

This was the Commodore, M.

de la Pailletine, who stood on the poop with his feet planted wide and his hands clasped beneath his coat-tails.

He was wondering who this visitor could be.
Captain Salt was elegantly dressed, and the cloak thrown back from his broad chest revealed a green suit, thick with gold lace, and a white waistcoat also embroidered with gold.

The bullion twinkled in the sunshine as the boat drew near and, crossing under Tristram's dangling heels, dropped alongside the galley.