“Captain Toplift,” said I, “I do not command this vessel, and I shall therefore leave you to decide upon the fate of this miscreant;” and having said that, I was going below to the cabin, when the captain of the Transcendant’s son ran to me, and said, “I want to speak to you, Sir, when you are alone.”
“What are you after, Peleg?” cried his father.
“I’m going to save your life, father, if I can,” replied he.
“You’ll be clever if you do that, boy,” said the man, sneeringly.
I allowed the boy to follow me down into the cabin, and then asked him what he had to say.
“I have that to tell you which is of more value than the lives of a hundred boys like me.”
“Boys like you? Why I thought it was to save your father’s life that you came down, Sir?”
“Pooh!” said he, “let him hang; he was born for a halter. I am come to save my own life. I only said that to gammon him.”
“You’re a hopeful youth,” said I; “and pray what is that you can tell me that will save your own neck from the halter?”
“That which will save your own, most likely,” replied the boy, “and tit-for-tat’s all fair.”