"You needn't go for to tell _that_ to a Bagnio slave like me, Mister Peter. Your greatness might have made you aware o' that," returned the sailor quietly. An eye-shutting grin was Peter's reply to this, and further converse was stopped by the sound of clattering hoofs. "Massa!" exclaimed the negro, listening. "Das good. No time lost. Come wid me, you sham nigger, an' I's gib you somet'ing to tickle you stummik. You go an' look arter de hoss, Geo'ge." While the middy ran to the gate to receive his master, Peter the Great led the sham nigger to the culinary regions, where, in a sequestered corner, he supplied him with a bowl containing a savoury compound of chicken and rice. "I hope that all has gone well?" Foster ventured to ask as the Moor dismounted. "All well. Send Peter to me immediately," he replied, and, without another word, hurried into the house. Calling another slave and handing over the smoking horse to him, Foster ran to the kitchen. "Peter, you're--" "Wanted 'meeditly--yes, yes--I knows dat. What a t'ing it is to be in'spensible to anybody! I don't know how he'll eber git along widout me." Saying which he hurried away, leaving the middy to do the honours of the house to the sailor. "I s'pose, sir, you haven't a notion what sort o' plans that nigger has got in his head?" asked the latter. "Not the least idea. All I know is that he is a very clever fellow and never seems very confident about anything without good reason." "Well, whatever he's a-goin' to do, I hope he'll look sharp about it, for poor Miss Sommers's fate and the lives o' my mates, to say nothin' of my own, is hangin' at this moment on a hair--so to speak," returned the sailor, as he carefully scraped up and consumed the very last grain of the savoury mess, murmuring, as he did so, that it was out o' sight the wery best blow-out he'd had since he enjoyed his last Christmas dinner in old England. "Will you have some more?" asked the sympathetic middy. "No more, sir, thankee. I'm loaded fairly down to the water-line. Another grain would bust up the hatches; but if I might ventur' to putt forth a wish now, a glass o'--no? well, no matter, a drop o' water'll do. I'm well used to it now, havin' drunk enough to float a seventy-four since I come to this city o' pirates." "You will find coffee much more agreeable as well as better for you. I have learned that from experience," said the middy, pouring out a tiny cupful from an earthen coffee-pot that always stood simmering beside the charcoal fire. "Another of that same, sir, if you please," said the seaman, tossing off the cupful, which, indeed, scarcely sufficed to fill his capacious mouth. "Why they should take their liquor in these parts out o' things that ain't much bigger than my old mother's thimble, passes my comprehension. You wouldn't mind another?--thankee."