“I confess the same. My ship has filled your eye agreeably; nor shall I
be slow to acknowledge, that I have seen enough about your air, and
person, to make me wish to be an older acquaintance. You want service?”
“One should be ashamed of idleness in these stirring times.”
“It is well. This is an oddly-constructed world in which we live, Mr
Wilder! Some think themselves in danger, with a foundation beneath them
no less solid than _terra firma_, while others are content to trust
their fortunes on the sea. So, again, some there are who believe
praying is the business of man; and then come others who are sparing of
their breath, and take those favours for themselves which they have not
always the leisure or the inclination to ask for. No doubt you thought
it prudent to inquire into the nature of our trade, before you came
hither in quest of employment?”
“You are said to be a slaver, among the townsmen of Newport.”
“They are never wrong, your village gossips! If witchcraft ever truly
existed on earth, the first of the cunning tribe has been a village
innkeeper; the second, its doctor; and the third, its priest. The right
to the fourth honour may be disputed between the barber and the
tailor.—Roderick!”
The Captain accompanied the word by which he so unceremoniously
interrupted himself, by striking a light blow on a Chinese gong, which,
among other curiosities, was suspended from one of the beams of the
upper deck, within reach of his hand.
“I say, Roderick, do you sleep?”
A light and active boy darted out of one of the two little state-rooms
which were constructed on the quarters of the ship, and answered to the
summons by announcing his presence.
“Has the boat returned?”
The reply was in the affirmative.
“And has she been successful?”
“The General is in his room, sir, and can give you an answer better
than I.”
“Then, let the General appear, and report the result of his campaign.”
Wilder was by far too deeply interested, to break the sudden reverie
into which his companion had now evidently fallen, even by breathing as
loud as usual. The boy descended through the hatch like a serpent
gliding into his hole, or, rather, a fox darting into his burrow, and
then a profound stillness reigned in the cabin. The Commander of the
ship leaned his head on his hand, appearing utterly unconscious of the
presence of any stranger. The silence might have been of much longer
duration, had it not been interrupted by the appearance of a third
person. A straight, rigid form slowly elevated itself through the
little hatchway, very much in the manner that theatrical spectres are
seen to make their appearance on the stage, until about half of the
person was visible, when it ceased to rise, and turned its disciplined
countenance on the Captain.
“I wait for orders,” said a mumbling voice, which issued from lips that
were hardly perceived to move.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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