“I not a sailor, sah; I de ship cook. You mind I not put de cork in de tubum, Mass’ Tolly, next time you go down.”
“There! do you hear him?” cried Tolly. “Who’s going down to be threatened like that?”
“Yah, yah, yah!” laughed the black. “Him great coward, sah. He not worf notice.”
Then he turned and walked forward, while Tolly resumed his suit, vacated for him by Dutch, their helmets were put on by two of the men, and diving commenced, Dutch remaining on board till it was time to cease, and having the satisfaction of seeing a goodly portion of the copper hauled on the deck of the schooner, the divers fastening ropes round the ingots, which were drawn up by the sailors.
“That was a malicious trick, of course,” said Dutch to the captain while Tolly was below.
“I’m afraid it was,” said the captain, “to try and make out that the machinery was out of order.”
“Yes, I expected it,” said Dutch; “and that’s why I spoke to you. They did not mean to do me a mischief, of course—only to frighten me. I don’t suspect the black, though.”
“What, ’Pollo!” said the captain. “Good heavens, no! He’s as staunch as steel. A thoroughly trustworthy man.”
“I must wink at it, I suppose,” said Dutch, “for it is not easy to supply vacancies in our little staff, and the men know it. They are hard fellows to manage.”
“And yet you manage them well,” said the captain, smiling. “You ought to have been a skipper.”