“No, we wer’n’t altogether idle, my Lady, seeing that we kept our teeth
jogging on the skin of the dog, though I will not say that the food was
over savoury. And then, as we had no occasion to lose time in eating,
we kept the oars going so much the livelier. Well, we got in at one of
the islands after a time, though neither I nor the nigger had much to
boast of as to strength or weight when we made the first kitchen we
fell in with.”
“And the child?”
“Oh! he was doing well enough; for, as the doctors afterwards told us,
the short allowance on which he was put did him no harm.”
“You sought his friends?”
“Why, as for that matter, my Lady, so far as I have been able to
discover, he was with his best friends already. We had neither chart
nor bearings by which we knew how to steer in search of his family. His
name he called master Harry, by which it is clear he was a gentleman
born, as indeed any one may see by looking at him; but not another word
could I learn of his relations or country, except that, as he spoke the
English language, and was found in an English ship, there is a natural
reason to believe he is of English build himself.”
“Did you not learn the name of the ship?” demanded the attentive Rover,
in whose countenance the traces of a lively interest were very
distinctly discernible.
“Why, as to that matter, your Honour, schools were scarce in my part of
the country; and in Africa, you know, there is no great matter of
learning; so that, had her name been out of water, which it was not, we
might have been bothered to read it. Howsomever, there was a
horse-bucket kicking about her decks, and which, as luck would have it,
got jammed-in with the pumps in such a fashion that it did not go
overboard until we took it with us. Well, this bucket had a name
painted on it; and, after we had leisure for the thing, I got Guinea,
who has a natural turn at tattooing, to rub it into my arm in
gunpowder, as the handiest way of logging these small particulars. Your
Honour shall see what the black has made of it.”
So saying, Fid very coolly doffed his jacket, and laid bare, to the
elbow, one of his brawny arms, on which the blue impression was still
very plainly visible Although the letters were rudely imitated, it was
not difficult to read, in the skin, the words “Ark, of Lynnhaven.”
“Here, then, you had a clue at once to find the relatives of the boy,”
observed the Rover, after he had deciphered the letters.
“It seems not, your Honour; for we took the child with us aboard the
‘Proserpine,’ and our worthy Captain carried sail hard after the
people; but no one could give any tidings of such a craft as the ‘Ark,
of Lynnhaven;’ and, after a twelvemonth, or more, we were obliged to
give up the chase.”
“Could the child give no account of his friends?” demanded the
governess.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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