It appeared that as soon as the sailor had relieved his feelings he had quietly put on his cap and gone back to the grog shanty. As he entered the grog bar, the shellbacks faced him with steady eyes and silent lips. He looked into their eyes and knew through one glance that he gazed on honest men.
“Boys,” he said, “come up to my home. I want you to tell me all that you know—then we will breach the rum cask!”
Saying this, without another word he walked away. The tense silence of that rough crew of sympathetic men was dispelled by a huge sigh. Though the rum cask was to be broached as usual, a fact quite outside their expectations, they were sincerely sorry. That sigh came from the depths of their hearts, that warmed at the thought of the rum, which was of the very best brand.
As soon as the stricken father had departed, they all swallowed their drinks and filed out into the dusk of the hot evening.
Following the little track by the colonnade of palms they soon arrived outside Benbow’s cottage, and entered the little doorway in solemn silence, like a funeral procession.
Each man hitched up the knees of his pants and sat down, half nervously, in the old chairs to await events. The silence was broken only by the tick of the grandfather clock and the small coughs of expectation as Benbow stooped forward and, with tears in his eyes, broached the rum cask. Benbow had by this time drunk several pick-me-ups to steady his nerves, and he seemed more like himself again. Looking up at the crew as he sat in the old arm-chair he said:
“Boys, you know all that’s happened during my absence; now, I want you to tell me all that you know about this affair.”
For a moment all the beachcombers were silent. They remembered how Waylao had slept in the hulk, and each one wondered what Benbow would think when he heard about it all. Suddenly Ken-can, the ever-silent, saturnine chum of Benbow’s, stared at them all and sneered. Uncle Sam returned the gaze of those fixed, soulless eyes and muttered a fearful oath beneath his breath. Uncle Sam knew the significance of that sneer, but after a moment’s reflection determined to ignore it.
Under the influence of the same inspiration, each lifted his mug of rum and relieved his feelings. Then Uncle Sam braced up his pants, coughed as he looked round, and commenced in this wise:
“Captain, we feels right-down sorry about this ’ere business. We ain’t going to hold nothing back about all that we knows. I guess I’ll tell yer right here all that we know about your daughter, Waylao.”