Boiling over.
“Have you seen any of the black servants about?” asked Murray.
He was going to say slaves, but the word sounded so repugnant that he changed it.
“Them black chaps, sir?” replied the man. “You mean them as rowed the boat?”
“Yes, or any other ones about the place.”
“No, sir, only them as rowed, sir, and I was wondering where they got to. They seemed to go out, boat and all, like a match. I see ’em one minute, and the next they’d gone in amongst the trees; but where it was I couldn’t make out, and when I asked one of my messmates he didn’t seem to know neither.”
“Go back to your post, my lad,” said Murray. “Keep a sharp lookout, and report everything you see.”
“Ay, ay, sir!” said the man, saluting and going back amongst the trees, watched by Murray and May till he disappeared, when their eyes met in a questioning look.
The sailor was the first to speak.
“Yes, sir!” he said. “Was you saying anything?”