"I am his only son, sir," I answered him in the same language.
"Ah! You speak my tongue?" A gleam of joy passed over his grave features. "And you are his son? So! I should have guessed it at once, for you bear great likeness to him."
"You know my father, sir?"
"Years ago." His hands, which he used expressively, seemed to grope in a far past. "I come to him also from one who knew him years ago."
"Upon what business, sir!—if I am allowed to ask."
"I bring a message."
"You bring a tolerably full one, then," said I, glancing first at the disorder on deck and from that down to the recumbent figures in the hold.
"I speak for them," he went on, having followed the glance.
"It is most necessary that they keep silence; but I speak for all."
"Then, sir, as it seems to me, you have much to say."
"No," he answered slowly; "very little, I think; very little, as you will see."