The boatmen did not seem in the least degree surprised upon Ned announcing to them that they were to stay for the present. “It is kismet—fate,” said Hamet, calmly.
“I could have told ye that before,” said a voice; and, looking up, Ned saw the good-humoured sun-browned face of the Irishman just projecting over the edge of the bamboo jetty, where he lay upon his chest smoking a pipe.
“Hullo! I’d forgotten you,” said Ned, who had come down very thoughtful and dull.
“Faix, and I hadn’t forgotten you. Didn’t ye tell me to mind your duds and things in the boat, sor?”
“They did; I didn’t. I say, if you knew that we should stay, why didn’t you— But never mind.”
The man gave him a droll look.
“There ye needn’t mind spaking out,” he said. “I know. The old ’un won’t let ye go away again.”
“You know him?” said Ned excitedly.
“Av course I do. He niver lets any one go that he wants to stay.”
“Then why didn’t you, an Englishman—Irishman, I mean—”