“Leastwise he’m no right to go spying here on our quay, and never ax with your leave, or by your leave.  I’ll just goo mak’ mun out.”

And Claude, who had just retreated into his tent, had the pleasure of finding the curtain suddenly withdrawn, and as a flood of light rushed in, spoiling his daguerreotype plate, hearing a voice as of a sleepy bear—­

“Ax your pardon, sir; but what be you arter here?”

“Murder! shut the screen!” But it was too late; and Claude came out, while the eldest-born of Anak stood sternly inquiring,—­

“I say, what be you arter here, mak’ so boold?”

“Taking sun-pictures, my good sir, and you have spoilt one for me.”

“Sun-picturs, saith a?” in a very incredulous tone.

“Daguerreotypes of the place, for Lord Scoutbush.”

“Oh!—­if it’s his lordship’s wish, of course!  Only things is very well as they are, and needs no mending, thank God.  Only, ax pardon, sir.  You see, we don’t generally allow no interfering on our pier without lave, sir; the pier being ourn, we pays for the repairing.  So, if his lordship intends making of alterations, he’d better to have spoken to us first.”

“Alterations?” said Claude, laughing; “the place is far too pretty to need any improvement.”

“Glad you think so, sir!  But whatever be you arter here?”

“Taking views!  I’m a painter, an artist!  I’ll take your portrait, if you like!” said Claude, laughing more and more.

“Bless my heart, what vules we be!  ’Tis a paainter gentleman, lads!” roared he.

“What on earth did you take me for?  A Russian spy?”

The elder shook his head; grinned solemnly; and peace was concluded.  “We’m old-fashioned folks here, you see, sir; and don’t like no new-fangled meddlecomes.  You’ll excuse us; you’m very welcome to do what you like, and glad to see you here.”  And the old fellow made a stately bow, and moved away.

“No, no! you must stay and have your portrait taken; you’ll make a fine picture.”

“Hum; might ha’, they used to say, thirty years agone; I’m over old now.  Still, my old woman might like it.  Make so bold, sir, but what’s your charge?”

“I charge nothing.  Five minutes’ talk with an honest man will pay me.”

“Hum:  if you’d a let me pay you, sir, well and good; but I maunt take up your time for nought; that’s not fair.”

However, Claude prevailed, and in ten minutes he had all the sailors on the quay round him; and one after another came forward blushing and grinning to be “taken off.”  Soon the children gathered round, and when Valencia and Major Campbell came on the pier, they found Claude in the midst of a ring of little dark-haired angels; while a dozen honest fellows grinned when their own visages appeared, and chaffed each other about the sweethearts who were to keep them while they were out at sea.  And in the midst little Claude laughed and joked, and told good stories, and gave himself up, the simple, the sunny-hearted fellow, to the pleasure of pleasing, till he earned from one and all the character of “the pleasantest-spokenest gentleman that was ever into the town.”