“There, there,” he said kindly, “don’t be afraid. Speak out.”
“Yes, sir,” I said hastily. “It was only this. I think I read somewhere once, in a paper, about a Malay prahu being taken by the captain of a ship pretending to be helpless, and this made the prahu, which could sail twice as fast as his ship, come close up to attack him.”
“Yes; and what then?”
“The captain sunk the prahu, sir.”
“Humph!” said Captain Thwaites, frowning and leaning back in his chair. “That’s what I should like to do to the piratical junks, Mr Herrick. But—”
He stopped, and I saw that he was watching me keenly. But he had not ordered me out of the cabin, nor called me an impertinent puppy, so I felt better. The plunge had been made, and I waited not quite so nervously for his next words.
“Yes—what I should like to do, Mr Herrick; but I am dealing with cunning Chinese, and not with bold Malays.”
“No, sir,” I said; “but could not we—you—I mean we—I mean—” I stammered.
“Come, come, Mr Herrick, there is no need for all this tremor. Sit down, my lad.”
“Thank you, sir; I would rather stand, please. I think I could talk better.”