Francisco shook his head, and Pompey put his finger up to his mouth, his eyes, full of meaning, fixed upon Francisco.
At this moment the personage referred to was heard descending the companion-ladder. Pompey recommenced rubbing the silver, and Francisco dropped his eyes upon the book.
What was the tie which appeared to bind the captain to this lad was not known; but, as the latter had always accompanied, and lived together with him, it was generally supposed that he was the captain's son; and he was as often designated by the crew as young Cain as he was by his Christian name of Francisco. Still it was observed that latterly they had frequently been heard in altercation, and that the captain was very suspicious of Francisco's movements.
'I beg I may not interrupt your conversation,' said Cain, on entering the cabin; 'the information you may obtain from a Krouman must be very important.'
Francisco made no reply, but appeared to be reading his book. Cain's eyes passed from one to the other, as if to read their thoughts.
'Pray what were you saying, Mr. Pompey?'
'Me say, Massa Captain? me only tell young Massa dis very fine ting; ask where you get him—Massa Francisco no tell.'
'And what might it be to you, you black scoundrel?' cried the captain, seizing the goblet, and striking the man with it a blow on the head which flattened the vessel, and at the same time felled the Krouman, powerful as he was, to the deck. The blood streamed as the man slowly rose, stupefied and trembling from the violent concussion. Without saying a word, he staggered out of the cabin, and Cain threw himself on one of the lockers in front of the standing bed-place, saying, with a bitter smile, 'So much for your intimates, Francisco!'
'Rather, so much for your cruelty and injustice towards an unoffending man,' replied Francisco, laying his book on the table. 'His question was an innocent one—for he knew not the particulars connected with the obtaining of that flagon.'
'And you, I presume, do not forget them? Well, be it so, young man; but I warn you again—as I have warned you often—nothing but the remembrance of your mother has prevented me, long before this, from throwing your body to the sharks.'