“Indeed!” cried Murray. “And pray how do you manage to do that?”
“Why, ain’t I telling on you, youngster? I shuts my eyes so as I can’t see.”
“Then how can you look another way?”
The American displayed every tooth in his head and winked at the lieutenant.
“Yew’ve got a sharp ’un here, mister. I should keep him covered up, or shut him up somehow, ’fore he cuts anybody or himself. But yew understand what I mean, mister, and I dessay you can see now why I feel it my business to be very sorry for the black niggers, but more sorry for myself and my people. I don’t want to be knifed by a set o’ hangdog rubbish from all parts o’ the world. I’m a peaceable man, mister, but you’re a cap’en of a man-o’-war, I suppose?”
“Chief officer,” said the lieutenant.
“And what’s him?” said the American, jerking his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the midshipman. “Young chief officer?”
“Junior officer.”
“Oh, his he? Well, I tell you what: yew both go and act like men-o’-war. Sail up close to that schooner, fire your big guns, and send her to the bottom of the river.”
“And what about the poor slaves?” said Murray excitedly.