"
"Why," I said, with a sudden inspiration, "you shall be just what
you are, English seamen who have escaped prison. I shall give out
that as we were escorting our deserters we discovered you skulking
in a barn, and brought you along with us."
My comrades were aghast at this, but I pointed out that my plan
would solve the language difficulty, and that if it succeeded in
one part it might succeed in all, whereas if it failed they would
be none the worse off. They admitted that this was reasonable, and
the humor of the situation suddenly striking them, they began to
enjoy it as an excellent joke.
And then Runnles suggested a difficulty which had not occurred to
me: it may seem a mark of self-conceit, but it was really mere
thoughtlessness. He pointed out that though I spoke French well
(little Runnles was a man of tact!), yet it would not deceive a
native. He was undoubtedly right, and the suggestion staggered me.
Hoping to be reassured, I asked one of the deserters whether I
might pass as a Frenchman, and I own I felt deeply chagrined when,
with a shrug, he confessed that I would not. But one of his
comrades here broke in.
"Pardon, monsieur," he said, "what matters it? That brute of a
captain is only a German Swiss; there are plenty such in the king's
army; and your French is as good as his."
My spirits rose at this, and having told my comrades what he had
said, I determined to lose no more time in putting my plan into
execution.
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