"By God, he's right!" he muttered, and after a moment; "I've wore that ten year and never thought of it. The little son of a gun!" He remained staring for a moment at the hook. Then he looked up and caught my eye. His own turned quizzical. He shifted his quid and began to hum: "The bos'n laid aloft, aloft laid he, _Blow high, blow low! What care we?_ 'There's a ship upon the wind'ard, a wreck upon the lee,' _Down on the coast of the high Barbare-e-e."_ We had entered the trades and were making good time. I was content to stay on deck, even in my watch below. The wind was strong, the waves dashing, the sky very blue. From under our forefoot the flying fish sped, the monsters pursued them. A tingle of spray was in the air. It was all very pleasant. The red handkerchief around Solomon's head made a pretty spot of colour against the blue of the sky and the darker blue of the sea. Silhouetted over the flaw-less white of the deck house was the sullen, polished profile of the Nigger. Beneath me the ship swerved and leaped, yielded and recovered. I breathed deep, and saw cutlasses in harmless shadows. It was two years ago. I was young--then---- At the mess hour I stood in doubt. However, I was informed by the captain's falsetto that I was to eat in the cabin. As the only other officer, I ate alone, after the others had finished, helping myself from the dishes left on the table. It was a handsome cabin, well kept, with white woodwork spotlessly clean, leather cushions--much better than one would expect. I afterwards found that the neatness of this cabin and of the three staterooms was maintained by the Nigger--at peril of his neck. A rack held a dozen rifles, five revolvers, and,--at last--my cutlasses. I examined the lot with interest. They were modern weapons,--the new high power 30-40 box-magazine rifle, shooting government ammunition,--and had been used. The revolvers were of course the old 45 Colt's. This was an extraordinary armament for a peaceable schooner of one hundred and fifty tons burden. The rest of the cabin's fittings were not remarkable. By the configuration of the ship I guessed that two of the staterooms must be rather large. I could make out voices within. On deck I talked with Captain Selover. "She's a snug craft," I approached him. He nodded. "You have armed her well." He muttered something of pirates and the China seas. I laughed. "You have arms enough to give your crew about two magazine rifles apiece--unless you filled all your berths forward!" Captain Selover looked me direct in the eye. "Talk straight, Mr. Eagen," said he. "What is this ship, and where is she bound?" I asked, with equal simplicity. He considered.