“I will, I will; but please p’int dat weepon some oder way.”
The mate complied, and the African, somewhat reassured, though still considerably frightened, listened to the words of the man who he supposed was drowned hours before.
“I am alive and well, Pomp, as you can see, and so is the captain, who is taking a short nap in the cabin. We are well armed, as you know–––”
“Yas! yas! yas!” chattered the negro.
“And we can sail away in the morning, at the turning of the tide, and leave you here–––”
“Dat’s what I want you to do, an’ I’ll go wid you.”
“You can’t go! I know well enough what you came out here for. You thought you would find a chance to get the upper hand of the captain, and would let the other villains on board. There! you needn’t deny it. I understand the matter too well to be deceived.”
“Didn’t I sabe de cap’in’s life?” quavered Pomp, still fearful of the cold, measured tones of the mate.
“You befriended him at a critical moment, and therefore I won’t shoot you, when I have such a good chance to do so. But you have regretted your interference more than once, and you are seeking now to undo all the good you have done. We have it in our power not only to go away, but to bring back a force which shall hang every one of you three, as you deserve to be, but–––”