As he spoke he led the way to the garden, where three gentlemen were awaiting them.

“This is Captain Cable,” he said, and the three gentlemen raised their hats, much to the captain’s discomfiture.  He did not hold by foreign ways; but he dragged his hat off and then expectorated on the lawn, just to show that he felt quite at home.  He even took the lead in the conversation.

“Tell ’em,” he said, “that I’m a plain man from Sun’land that has a speciality, an’ that’s transshipping cargo at sea, but me hands are clean.”

He held them out and they were not, so he must have spoken metaphorically.

The banker translated, addressing himself to one of his companions, rather markedly and with much deference.

“You’re speakin’ French,” interrupted Captain Cable.

“Yes, my fren’, I am.  Do you know French?”

“Not me,” returned Captain Cable, affably.  “They’re all one to me.  They’re all damn nonsense.”

He was, it seemed, that which is called in these days of blatant patriotism a thorough Englishman, or a true Blue, according to the social station of the speaker.

The gentleman to whom the translation had been addressed smiled.  He was a tall and rather distinguished-looking man, with bushy white hair and mustache.  His features were square-cut and strong.  His eyes were dark, and he had an easy smile.  He led the way to some chairs which had been placed near a table at the far end of the lawn beneath a cedar-tree, and his manner had something faintly regal in it, as if in his daily life he had always been looked up to and obeyed without question.

“Tell him that we also are plain men with clean hands,” he said.

And the banker replied: 

“Oui, mon Prince.”

But the interpretation was taken out of his mouth by one of the others, the youngest of the group—­a merry-eyed youth, with a fluffy, fair mustache and close-cropped, flaxen hair.

“My father,” he said, in perfect English, “says that we also are plain men, and that your hands will not be hurt by touching ours.”

He held out his hand as he spoke, and refused to withdraw it until it had been grasped, rather shame-facedly, by Captain Cable, who did not like these effusive foreign ways, but, nevertheless, rather liked the young man.

The banker ranged the chairs round the table, and the oddly assorted group seated themselves.  The man who had not yet spoken, and who sat down last, was obviously a sailor.  His face was burned a deep brown, and was mostly hidden by a closely cut beard.  He had the slow ways of a Northerner, the abashed manner of a merchant skipper on shore.  The mark of the other element was so plainly written upon him that Captain Cable looked at him hard and then nodded.  Without being invited to do so they sat next to each other at one side of the table, and faced the three landsmen.  Again Captain Cable spoke first.