"Is it an English ship?" asked Dickory, speaking with some effort, for he found that the girl's voice came down much more readily than his went up.
"I don't know," said she, "but I suppose it must be, for otherwise I should not understand what the people on board should say to me. It is a large ship, strong and able to defend itself against any pirates. It is laden with all sorts of useful and valuable things, and among these are a great many trunks and boxes filled with different kinds of clothes. Also, there's a great deal of money kept in a box by itself, and is in charge of an agent who is bringing it out to my father, supposing him to be now settled in Barbadoes. This money is generally a legacy for my father from a distant relative who has recently died. On this ship there are so many delightful things that I cannot even begin to mention them."
"And where is it going to?" asked Dickory.
"That I don't know exactly. Sometimes I think that it is going to the island of Barbadoes, where we originally intended to settle; but then I imagine that there is some pleasanter place than Barbadoes, and if that's the case the ship is going there."
"There can be no pleasanter place than Barbadoes," cried Dickory. "I come from that island, where I was born; there is no land more lovely in all the West Indies."
"You come from Barbadoes?" cried the girl, "and it really is a pleasant island?"
"Most truly it is," said he, "and the great dream of my life is to get back there." Then he stopped. Was it really the dream of his life to get back there? That would depend upon several things.
"If, then, you tell me the truth, my ship is bound for Barbadoes. And if she should go, would you like to go there with us?"
Dickory hesitated. "Not directly," said he. "I would first touch at Jamaica."
For some moments there was no answer from the tree-top, and then came the question: "Is it a girl who lives there?"