And jumping on shore, without uttering a word of disappointment, he was going in search of his comrades, when he saw suddenly a man turn up out of the darkness, whose features it was impossible to distinguish.
“Who is there?” he asked.
“Mr. Officer,” answered the man in an almost unintelligible jargon, a horrible medley of French, Spanish, and English. “I heard you tell the little man in the boat there”—
“Well?”
“I thought you wanted to get back on board your ship?”
“Why, yes.”
“Well, then, if you like it, I am a boatman; I can take you over.”
There was no reason why Daniel should mistrust the man. In all ports of the world, and at any hour of the day or the night, men are to be found who are lying in wait on the wharves for sailors who have been belated, and who are made to pay dear for such extra services.
“Ah! you are a boatman, you say?” Daniel exclaimed, quite pleased at the encounter. “Well, where is your boat?”
“There, Mr. Officer, a little way down; just follow me. But what ship do you want to go to?”