Nautilus | Page 4

his lips thin; perhaps a Malay or an Arab. If one could see
a real Arab, one could ask him about the horses, and whether the dates
were always sticky, and what he did in a sandstorm, and lots of
interesting things. And then a Malay,--why, you could ask him how he
felt when he ran amuck,--only, perhaps, that would not be polite.
These meditations were interrupted by a hail from the schooner. It was
the dark man himself who spoke, in a quiet voice that sounded kind.
"Good-morning, sir! Will you come aboard this morning?"
John was not used to being called "Sir," and the word fell pleasantly on
ears that shrank from the detested syllable "Bub," with which strangers
were wont to greet him.
"Yes, if you please," he answered, with some dignity. It is, perhaps,
difficult to be stately when one is only five feet tall, but John felt
stately inside, as well as shy. The stranger turned and made a sign to

the other men, who came quickly, bringing a gang-plank, which they
ran out from the schooner's deck to the wharf. The Skipper, for such the
dark man appeared to be, made a sign of invitation, and after a
moment's hesitation, John ran across and stood on the deck of the white
schooner. Was he still dreaming? Would he wake in a moment and find
himself back in the garret at home, with Mr. Scraper shaking him?
"Welcome, young gentleman!" said the Skipper, holding out his hand.
"Welcome! the first visitor to the schooner. That it is a child, brings
luck for the next voyage, so we owe you a thank. We arrived last night
only. And what is my young gentleman's name?"
"My name is John," said the boy, standing with down-cast eyes before
this wonderful person.
"And mine!" said the Skipper,--"two Johns, the black and the red. You
should be called Juan Colorado, for your hair of red gold."
The boy looked up quickly, his cheek flushing; he did not like to be
laughed at; but the Skipper's face was perfectly grave, and only
courtesy and hospitality shone from his dark eyes.
"I wonder what the schooner's name is!" John said, presently, speaking
low, and addressing his remarks apparently to the mast, which he
kicked gently with his foot.
"The schooner is the 'Nautilus,' young gentleman!"
The reply came from the Skipper, not from the mast, yet it was still to
the latter that the boy made his next observation.
"I wonder where she comes from, and where she is going, and what she
is going to do here!" And having delivered himself breathlessly of these
remarks, the boy John wished he could squeeze through a port-hole, or
melt away into foam, or get away somehow, anyhow.
But now he felt himself lifted in strong arms, and set on the rail of the
vessel, with his eyes just opposite those of the Skipper, so that he could

not look up without meeting them; and on so looking up, it became
evident immediately that this was the kindest man in the world, and
that he liked boys, and that, finally, there was nothing to be afraid of.
On which John heaved a mighty sigh of relief, and then smiled, and
then laughed.
"I like to know things!" he said, simply.
"Me, too," replied the Skipper. "I also like to know things. How else
shall we become wise, Juan Colorado? Now listen, and you shall hear.
This schooner is the 'Nautilus,' as I say, and she is a Spanish schooner.
Yes;" (in reply to the question in the boy's eyes,) "I am partly a Spanish
man, but not all. I have other mankind in me, young gentleman. We
come from the Bahamas. Do you know where are they, the Bahamas?"
John nodded. He liked geography, and stood at the head of his class.
"Part of the West Indies," he said, rapidly. "Low, coral islands. One of
them, San Salvador, is said to be the first land discovered by Columbus
in 1492. Principal exports, sugar, coffee, cotton, tobacco, and tropical
fruits. Belong to Great Britain. That's all I know."
"Caramba!" said a handsome youth, who was lounging on the rail a few
feet off, gazing on with idle eyes, "you got the schoolmaster here,
Patron! I did not know all that, me, and I come, too, from Bahamas.
Say, you teach a school, M'sieur?"
"Franci!" said the Patron, gravely.
"Si, Señor!" said Franci, with a beautiful smile, which showed his teeth
under his black mustache.
"There is a school of flying-fish in the cabin. Better see to them!"
"Si, Señor!" said Franci, and disappeared down the hatchway.
"Is there?" asked the boy John, with great eyes of wonder. The Skipper
smiled, and shook his head.

"Franci understands me," he