Thus the news that they were not only a
long way from the place he wished to reach, but steadily increasing
their distance from it, so surprised him that for a moment he sat on
the edge of his bunk gazing at the speaker as though doubting if he had
heard aright. Finally he asked: "Where, then, are we bound?"
"To Pretty Harbour, around on the west coast, where I live," was the
answer.
"I'd be willing to give you fifty dollars to turn around and carry me
to St. Johns," said Cabot.
"Couldn't do it if you offered me a hundred, much as I need the money,
and glad as I would be to oblige you, for I've got to get home in a
hurry if I want to find any home to get to. You see, it's this way,"
continued White, noting Cabot's look of inquiry, "Pretty Harbour being
on the French shore----"
"What do you mean by the French shore?" interrupted Cabot. "I thought
you lived in Newfoundland, and that it was an English island."
"So it is," explained White; "but, for some reason or other, I don't
know why, England made a treaty with France nearly two hundred years
ago, by which the French were granted fishing privileges from Cape Bay
along the whole west coast to Cape Bauld, and from there down the east
coast as far as Cape St. John. By another treaty made some years
afterwards France was granted, for her own exclusive use, the islands
of Miquelon and St.
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