Meek looked around again, and slightly shivered.
'I wonder what they did with the bones?' he murmured.
'What bones?'
'The cannibals, I mean, sir, when they 'd eat the captain and crew.'
'You 've a ghastly imagination, Meek. A question more to the point is, how it happens that these things remain here, so well preserved. There 's very little sand on the floor, as you see; any one would think that somebody comes here now and then to tidy up. Would your cannibals do that, do you think?'
'I wouldn't like to say, sir. I 'll ask Mr. Grinson; he knows 'em, being nearly eat himself. But I don't know who 'd have a good word for cannibals.'
'At any rate, they aren't thieves. This mug, for instance, is silver gilt, and of some value; here 's a coat-of-arms engraved on it, and it must have been polished not very long ago. Yes, it has been rubbed with sand; look at the slight scratches. I 'm beginning to think rather well of your cannibals.'
'Touch wood, sir,' said Meek earnestly. 'I wouldn't say a thing like that, not till I knowed. And as for thieves--well, if a man's bad enough to eat another man, he 's bad enough to be a thief, and if he ain't a thief, 'tis because he don't know the vally of things. Ignorance is a terrible unfortunate calamity.'
A sonorous bellow from above caused Meek to jump.
'There, now!' he said. 'My head 's full of cannibals, and 'tis Mr. Grinson. We 're down below!' he called.