'
'English yachtsmen are not particularly good judges of sailors. I tell
you your skipper is no sailor, and his men are fools. If it had not been
for me the _Cayman_ would have gone to pieces on the rocks last night,
and if you are to cross to St. Malo, as you talked of doing, for the
regatta there, you had better sack these men and let me get you a South
American crew. I know of a fellow who is in London just now--the captain
of a Rio steamer, who'll send you a crew of picked men, if you give me
authority to telegraph to him.'
'I don't like foreign sailors,' said Smithson, looking perplexed and
worried; 'and I have perfect confidence in Wilkinson.'
'Which is as much as to say that you consider me a liar! Go to the
bottom your own way, _mon ami: ce n'est pas mon affaire,_' said
Montesma, turning on his heel, and leaving his friend to his own
devices.
Had he pressed the point, Smithson would have suspected him of some evil
motive, and would have been resolute in his resistance; but as he said
no more about it, Smithson began to feel uncomfortable.
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