“Well, you can do as you like,” said the man; “but I know what I should do if they’d served me so.”
“Cutoff?” said Jem.
“That’s it, mate. I wouldn’t ha’ minded being a sailor, but not be made one whether I liked or no.”
“You weren’t a sailor, were you?” said Don.
“I? No; never mind what I was.”
“Then we had better cut off, Mas’ Don,” said Jem, grinning till his eyes were shut; “and you and me ’ll be painted like he is in fast colours, and you shall be a chief, and I’ll be your head man.”
“To be sure,” said the Englishman; “and you shall have a wife.”
“Eh?” cried Jem fiercely; “that I just won’t. And, Mas’ Don, if we ever do get back, don’t you never say a word to my Sally about this here.”
“No, Jem, not I.”
“But you’ll leave the ship, mate?”