The two seamen stepped towards them from the shelter of a bush.
'We came to meet you, sir,' Grinson began.
'Hush, Grinson!' said Trentham. 'Muffle that organ-pipe of yours. The savages have got a white man.'
'Never!' exclaimed Meek, in husky astonishment.
'He 's lying tied to a bush there, apparently,' Trentham went on. 'A man dressed in white.'
'Mr. Grimshaw! How did they get him?' said Grinson. 'He must have been cast ashore.'
'We don't think it's he, but it may be. Anyhow, we must try to rescue him.'
'Save us, sir! We 'll only go into the pot too. It will be like taking a bone from a dog, only worse.'
'Worse ain't the word for it,' said Meek. 'And you 'd go first, Mr. Grinson, being a man of flesh.'
'Tough, Ephraim--uncommon tough, me lad. Any nigger of sense would rather have something young and juicy, like Mr. Trentham. I remember once----'