I complied with his request, for I was anxious to be again amused as I was the night before. The consequence was, that this night was, in the early portion of it, but a repetition of the previous one. Jackson took the precaution to get into his bed-place before he commenced drinking; and, as soon as he had taken his second dose, he asked me what sort of songs I liked. My reply naturally was, that I had never heard any one sing but him, and therefore could not say.
“What did I sing to you last night?” said he.
I replied as well as I could.
“Ah,” said he, “they were all sea-songs; but now I will give you something better.”
After a little thought, he commenced singing a very beautiful and plaintive one, and certainly much better than he had sung the night before; for he now was sober. The consequence was, that I was still more delighted; and, at my request, he sang several others; but at last his speech became rapid and thick, and he would not sing any more, using some very coarse expressions to me when I asked him. For a time he was silent, and I thought that he was going to sleep, and I was reflecting upon the various effects which the liquor appeared to have upon him, when I heard him talking and muttering, and I listened.
“Never mind how I got them,” said he; “quite as honestly as other people, Old Moshes. There they are, do you choose to buy them?” Then there was a pause, after which he commenced: “They’re as pure diamonds as ever came out of a mine. I know that, so none of your lies, you old Jew. Where did I come by them? That’s no concern of yours. The question is, will you give me the price, or will you not? Well, then, I’m off. No, I won’t come back, you old thief.” Here he swore terribly, and then was silent.
After a while he recommenced—
“Who can ever prove that they were Henniker’s diamonds?”
I started up at the mention of my father’s name; I rested with my hands on the floor of the cabin, breathless as to what would come next.
“No, no,” continued Jackson, “he’s dead, and food for fishes—dead men tell no tales—and she’s dead, and the captain’s dead, all dead—yes, all;” and he gave a bitter groan and was silent.