“I say, young fellow,” growled Sam, “don’t you get croaking like that. ’Taint lucky.”
“No, sah; wouldn’t be lucky lose all de silber again. I tink I know how much I go to hab for my share.”
“Enough to make you an independent gentleman for life, ’Pollo.”
“You tink so, sah?” chuckled ’Pollo.
“Sartin sure.”
“Den I wear white hankcher and white wescoat ebery day; and make some darn niggah clean my boots free times over. Yah, yah, yah.”
“Here, I shall be smothered if I stop up here much longer, ’Pollo,” said Oakum, stepping out upon the deck, where all was dark and silent, only a very faint light now coming up through the cabin skylight.
“It am hot, sar, berry hot,” said ’Pollo, and they stood at the side staring at the shore, where the undergrowth seemed to be lit up by a shower of fallen stars, which leaped and danced from leaf to leaf, while the very sea beneath them seemed alive with pale shining points of light, which glided softly along till some fish darted through the water and made the little starry dots flash into a long line of light. Against the side of the ship there seemed to be so much pale golden light rising and falling, showing the copper sheathing of the vessel, and surrounding it with a soft halo which made its shape just faintly outlined from stem to stern. The cables, too, by which it was moored could be faintly traced as lines of light illuminated and sparkling right to the sand below, and for some little time the two men stood watching in silence.
“Dat’s shark,” whispered ’Pollo, suddenly, as he pointed down to where the points of light flashed more vividly as they were agitated, and though they could not make out the shape of the monster, it was plain to see that some great fish was slowly gliding through the water.
“What’s he hanging about after?” said Oakum, watching the place intently. “I should have thought it had been made too warm for them gentlemen, and they’d have give us a wide berth.”