The man looked up with lack luster eyes.
“We were seven men all told. This morning I am the only one left.”
“Who did it?”
“The pirates of the Red Sea. I had disposed of a cargo of fruit at Pilgrim’s Rest. The money was paid and on board. I sailed to get some more merchandise.”
“You were overhauled?”
“That’s it, sahib, exactly. By Allah, you have said it! Pearls of wisdom fall from your lips.”
“You flatter me, and I don’t care for that kind of thing. It may interest you, but it does not me, I can assure you; but if there is anything I can do to help you in your desperate situation, rely on me.”
“Sahib,” replied the skipper, in a melancholy tone, “you can do nothing to aid me; my race is run.”
“Poor fellow! Do you know the pirates who robbed your ship and killed your crew, wounding you to death?”
The man paused a moment.