“We ought to be greatly obliged,” confessed Henry Vivian. “This has been a most interesting experience, and I hope you’ll accept an English sovereign from me in the name of my father, old man. Be sure I’ll tell him of your exploits and all that he owes to you.”
“Gold—me like gold berry much,” declared Jesse. He took the money greedily and slipped it into a pocket at his belt. “Massa King ob England on it—good!” he said.
“And now I’ll depart, if you please, Ford,” continued young Vivian. “I’m glad to have had this most interesting experience, but I can’t stand the place any longer. The uncanny odours are choking me.”
“Smoke then. We can’t go immediately. The old boy would never forgive us. I’ll be off as soon as I dare.”
He turned to Jesse.
“Seen any turtle lately?”
“Plenty turtle, sar. I take my walks on moony nights and see de great cock turtle making a fuss and de ladies laying dar eggs in de sand. Berry good soup—but Jesse like rum better. It work quicker. You gem’men shall taste Jesse’s rum punch. Nobody make rum punch like me, massa.”
He made signs to Jacky, and the silent negro, who stood at the door, drew three calabash shells from a corner and took them out to wash them.
“He my son, massa,” explained old Hagan. “Him no speak or hear. Him tongue tied by de Lord. But him understand berry quick. Him understand like a dog, sar. Him know tings dat we no know, for all dat we have ears and tongues.”
Vivian nodded dreamily and puffed his cigar. The vile atmosphere of the hut and Jesse’s voice that ran on ceaselessly began together to hypnotise him. He felt sleepy.