Pieces of Eight | Page 9

way, how would you like to take old 'Sailor' with
you?"
"Sailor" was a great Labrador retriever, who, at that moment, turned up

his big head, with a devoted sigh, from behind his master's chair.
"Rather," I said. So "Sailor" was thereupon enrolled as a further
addition to the crew.
"Of course, you needn't expect to start on time," said Charlie, with a
laugh; "you'll be lucky if the crew turns up an hour after time. But that's
all in the game. I know them--lazy beggars."
And the morning proved the truth of Charlie's judgment.
"Old Tom," the cook, was first on hand. I took to him at once. A simple,
kindly old "darky" of "Uncle Tom's Cabin" type, with faithfulness
written all over him, and a certain sad wisdom in his old face.
"You'll find Tom a great cook," said Charlie, patting the old man on the
shoulder. "Many a trip we've taken together after duck, haven't we,
Tom?" said he kindly.
"That's right, suh. That's right," said the old man, his eyes twinkling
with pleasure.
Then came the captain--Captain Jabez Williams--a younger man, with
an intelligent, self-respecting manner, somewhat non-committal,
business-like, evidently not particularly anxious as to whether he
pleased or not, but looking competent, and civil enough, without being
sympathetic.
Next came the engineer, a young hulking bronze giant, a splendid
physical specimen, but rather heavy and sullen and not over-intelligent
to look at. A slow-witted young animal, not suggesting any great love
of work, and rather loutish in his manners. But, he knew his engine,
said Charlie. And that was the main thing. The deck-hand proved to be
a shackly, rather silly effeminate fellow, suggesting idiocy, but
doubtless wiry and good enough for the purpose.
While they were busy getting up the anchor of the Maggie Darling, I
went down into my cabin, to arrange various odds and ends, and

presently came the captain, touching his hat.
"There's a party," he said, "outside here, wants to know if you'll take
him as passenger to Spanish Wells."
"We're not taking passengers," I answered, "but I'll come and look him
over."
A man was standing up in a rowboat, leaning against the ship's side.
"You'd do me a great favour, sir," he began to say in a soft, ingratiating
voice.
I looked at him, with a start of recognition. He was my pock-marked
friend, who had made such an unpleasant impression on me, at John
Saunders's office. He was rather more gentlemanly looking than he had
seemed at the first view, and I saw that, though he was a half-breed, the
white blood predominated.
"I don't want to intrude," he said, "but I have urgent need of getting to
Spanish Wells, and there's no boat going that way for a week. I've just
missed the mail."
I looked at him, and, though I liked his looks no more than ever, I was
averse from being disobliging, and the favour asked was one often
asked and granted in those islands, where communication is difficult
and infrequent.
"I didn't think of taking any passengers," I said.
"I know," he said. "I know it's a great favour I ask." He spoke with a
certain cultivation of manner. "But I am willing, of course, to pay
anything you think well, for my food and my passage."
I waived that suggestion aside, and stood irresolutely looking at him,
with no very hospitable expression in my eyes, I dare say. But really
my distaste for him was an unreasoning prejudice, and Charlie
Webster's phrase came to my mind--"His face is against him, poor

devil!"
It certainly was.
Then at last I said, surely not overgraciously: "Very well. Get aboard.
You can help work the boat"; and with that I turned away to my cabin.
CHAPTER IV
In Which Tom Catches an Enchanted Fish, and Discourses of the
Dangers of Treasure Hunting.
The morning was a little overcast, but a brisk northeast wind soon set
the clouds moving as it went humming in our sails, and the sun, coming
out in its glory over the crystalline waters, made a fine flashing world
of it, full of exhilaration and the very breath of youth and adventure,
very uplifting to the heart. My spirits, that had been momentarily
dashed by my unwelcome passenger, rose again, and I felt kindly to all
the earth, and glad to be alive.
I called to Tom for breakfast.
"And you, boys, there; haven't you got a song you can put up? How
about 'The John B. sails?'" And I led them off, the hiss and swirl of the
sea, and the wind making a brisk undertone as we sang one of the
quaint Nassau ditties:
Come on the sloop John B. My grandfather and me, Round Nassau
town we did roam; Drinking all night,