"I was in a sense tricked into it, sir, and when we got to Gheria Captain Barker and Mr. Diggle, the supercargo, sold me to Angria."
"Sold you to the Pirate?"
"Yes, sir."
"And where do you hail from, then?"
"Shropshire, sir; my father was Captain Richard Burke in the Company's service."
"Jupiter! You're Dick Burke's son! Gad, sir, give me your hand; I knew Dick Burke; many's the sneaker of Bombay punch we've tossed off together. No nonsense about Dick; give me your fist.
"And so you sneaked out of Gheria and sailed this grab, eh? Well, you're a chip of the old block, and a credit to your old dad. I want to hear all about this. And you'll have to come ashore and see the governor."
"It's very kind of you, Mr. Johnson, but really I can't appear before the governor in this rig."
He glanced ruefully at his bare legs and feet and tattered garments.
"True, you en't very shipshape, but we'll soon alter that. Ever use a razor?"