“Well,” said the latter, as they found him now awake, “how are the broken pieces?”
“Allee quite wellee,” said the man, with a broad smile. “Wing going get up to bleakfas’.”
“That’s good news,” said Stan. “Shall I help you?”
“Help? No; Wing get up all ’lone.”
He tried to rise as he spoke, smiling the while, but his whole aspect changed, his face wrinkling up like that of an old man, as he sank back groaning with pain.
“Muchee achee all oveh,” he said piteously. “T’ink all bleaky af’ all.”
“Oh no,” said Blunt, smiling. “You’re stiff and bruised, and naturally you’ll feel pain as soon as you move; but do you know what you’ve done, sir?”
“Yes; fallee down. Almos’ bleak all to piecee.”
“No, no; I mean, giving us all such a scare. Where are your Chinese pirates?”
“Allee up livah. Long way.”