"Probably rain," said the Parisian.

"Or fog," said the American.

"In Italy," remarked the tourist, "Molfetta is the place where there falls the least rain; and Tolmezzo, where there falls the most."

At noon, according to the usage of the Channel Islands, the bell sounded for dinner. Those dined who desired. Some pa.s.sengers had brought with them provisions, and were eating merrily on the after-deck. Clubin did not eat.

While this eating was going on, the conversations continued.

The Guernsey man, having probably a scent for Bibles, approached the American. The latter said to him:

"You know this sea?"

"Very well; I belong to this part."

"And I, too," said one of the St. Malo men.

The native of Guernsey followed with a bow and continued:

"We are fortunately well out at sea now; I should not have liked a fog when we were off the Minquiers."

The American said to the St. Malo man:

"Islanders are more at home on the sea than the folks of the coast."

"True; we coast people are only half dipped in salt water."

"What are the Minquiers?" asked the American.

The St. Malo man replied:

"They are an ugly reef of rocks."

"There are also the Grelets," said the Guernsey man.

"Parblus!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the other.

"And the Chouas," added the Guernsey man.

The inhabitant of St. Malo laughed.

"As for that," said he, "there are the Savages also."

"And the Monks," observed the Guernsey man.

"And the Duck," cried the St. Maloite.

"Sir," remarked the inhabitant of Guernsey, "you have an answer for everything."

The tourist interposed with a question:

"Have we to pa.s.s all that legion of rocks?"

"No; we have left it to the sou'-south-east. It is behind us."

And the Guernsey pa.s.senger continued:

"Big and little rocks together, the Grelets have fifty-seven peaks."

"And the Minquiers forty-eight," said the other.

The dialogue was now confined to the St. Malo and the Guernsey pa.s.senger.

"It strikes me, Monsieur St. Malo, that there are three rocks which you have not included."

"I mentioned all."

"From the Deree to the Maitre Ile."

"And Les Maisons?"

"Yes; seven rocks in the midst of the Minquiers."

"I see you know the very stones."

"If I didn't know the stones, I should not be an inhabitant of St.

Malo."

"It is amusing to hear French people's reasonings."

The St. Malo man bowed in his turn, and said:

"The Savages are three rocks."

"And the Monks two."

"And the Duck one."

"_The_ Duck; this is only one, of course."

"No: for _the_ Suarde consists of four rocks."

"What do you mean by the Suarde?" asked the inhabitant of Guernsey.

"We call the Suarde what you call the Chouas."

"It is a queer pa.s.sage, that between the Chouas and the Duck."