“I beg your pardon, sir,” said he, “but the Muscadine is the only English ship in the harbour, and any one who has travelled like myself could easily tell the nationality of yourself and your friend. I am aware, also, that several of your crew are laid up in hospital.”
“And supposing such is the case,” said Tom Aldridge, taking up the cudgels, “what then?”
“Only, sir,” replied the man, even more obsequiously than before, “I and several others here, who are in want of a ship, would be glad to sign articles with you.”
“The others you mention are Greeks like yourself, I suppose?” inquired Tom, still brusquely, as if he did not care whether he offended his interlocutor or not.
“Yes, sir,” said the man, “but my countrymen are generally reckoned to make good sailors, and ship in all sorts of vessels to all parts of the world.”
“That may be,” answered Tom, who hardly knew what to say, “but it is no concern of mine. You had better speak to Captain Harding about the matter; we can’t engage you.”
“No?” said the man with a half sneer, half smile on his face, and he seemed about to say something nasty; but he altered his mind before he uttered the words, and completed his sentence with another civil inquiry, at which neither Tom nor Charley could take offence. “And, where can I and my friends see the captain, sir?”
“On board, any time before ten in the morning or after sunset in the evening,” said Tom curtly.
He didn’t like the man, but he was at a loss how he could put him off in any other way.
“Thank you, sir, I’m deeply obliged for your condescension,” said the Greek, who then regained his comrades, and the group presently walked out of the khan.