Jack started, and seemed sorry he had said so much; while Spike eyed him keenly. But the answer set all right. It was not given, however, without a moment for recollection.
“Oh, you knows what I mean, sir. I owe the old hussy a grudge for having desarted me like; but it's only a love quarrel atween us. The old Molly will never come to harm by my means.”
“I hope not, Jack. The man that wrongs the craft he sails in can never be a true-hearted sailor. Stick by your ship in all weathers is my rule, and a good rule it is to go by. But what did you tell the stranger?”
“Oh! I told him I'd been six v'y'ges in the brig. The first was to Madagascar—”
“The d—l you did? Was he soft enough to believe that?”
“That's more than I knows, sir. I can only tell you what I said; I do n't pretend to know how much he believed.”
“Heave ahead—what next?”
“Then I told him we went to Kamschatka for gold dust and ivory.”
“Whe-e-ew! What did the man say to that?”
“Why, he smiled a bit, and a'ter that he seemed more cur'ous than ever to hear all about it. I told him my third v'y'ge was to Canton, with a cargo of broom-corn, where we took in salmon and dun-fish for home. A'ter that we went to Norway with ice, and brought back silks and money. Our next run was to the Havana, with salt and 'nips—”