“What are you whispering about?” exclaimed Dutch. “Pray speak out.”
Mr Parkley looked at the captain for help, but he began to whistle, and walked away to give an order.
“Well, my dear Pugh, the fact is,” said Mr Parkley, taking hold of his special button.
“Pray go on,” exclaimed Dutch, “not anything serious?”
“N-no, not serious, but awkward. The fact is your wife came on board last night.”
“My wife!” exclaimed Dutch, and a flash of joy lit up his face. Then the sombre cloud overshadowed it again, and he exclaimed bitterly, “I have no wife,” and walked away.
“Well, my lad,” said Captain Studwick sharply, for the mulatto had ceased working, and, half bent down as he was, stood listening intently to all that passed, “you’ve nothing to do with what those gentlemen are saying.”
The man made a deprecating motion with his hand and bent to his work again.
“We may as well understand each other at once,” said the captain sharply. “Stand up.”
The mulatto stood up, but in a half-averted way, and displayed a curious sinister expression, caused by what appeared to be a scar across his cheek, while his eyes seemed shifty and unable to meet the speaker’s gaze.