"But I don't want you;" replied the captain. "My crew list is full, and I shall not carry you to America, for no one there would thank me for it, if what is said of your past life is true." "Never mind what is said of my past life, now, sir," he interposed; "I shall neither confirm nor deny anything. What is to be done with me, then?" "I shall be obliged to land you somewhere in New Zealand, though I suppose that amounts to nearly the same thing as carrying you back to Sydney," said the old man, with a shade of regret. "Not at all, sir," said Mike, "unless you put me directly into the hands of the authorities. If you will land me so that I can have a few hours start of them, they may whistle for me. I'm quite willing to take my chance among the Maories." "All right!" returned the captain, glad to be able to compromise with his sympathies in this way. "I shall make the land in a few days, and will set you ashore there somewhere. How did you get on board? by swimming?" "Yes, sir. I swam under the bows, and climbed up the chain cable." "Well, I must say you showed good judgment in selecting a hiding-place," said the captain, with a laugh. "What would you have done if we had set the staysail when we first got under way?" "I say nothing about what I would have done under circumstances that did not occur," answered the man quietly. "I should have done all that could be done. It's not the first runaway business that I've had to do with." "I presume not;" the captain replied, laughing again, for he was amused at the stranger's oddity and perfect coolness. "Well, go forward and tell the cook to give you some dinner with the rest, for you must be sharp-set by this time. I will do as well as I can by you, but I must get rid of you at New Zealand, anyhow." "Thank you, sir!" answered Galway, as he passed forward among the crew. "What do you think of him, Mr. Grafton?" said the old man. "He's no Irishman. There's no Mike about him, nor Galway either," said the mate. "My honest belief is, that he is an American, though how he got out here as a transported convict I expect would be a long story. It's useless to ask _him_ about it, that's evident." "Quite so," answered the captain. "But, come, I have lost my latitude, talking with him, and the steward is waiting dinner for us." CHAPTER XXIII. HOMEWARD.--THE EPISODE OF GALWAY MIKE.--CAPE HORN.--THE LAST WHALE.