The honest sailor was at first shy and embarrassed amid his unaccustomed surroundings, but under the charming influence of his fair hostess his self-possession was soon entirely restored. Thus, when she finally said: “And now, Mr. Coombs, do begin at the very beginning, and tell us how you happened to desert those poor young lads and leave them without any one to take care of them on this desolate island,” he readily replied as follows:
“Wal, marm—that is to say, miss—as old Kite Roberson uster say—”
“I knew he would come in!” cried Miss May, laughing and clapping her hands.
“Who, marm?” asked the mate, turning a bewildered gaze towards the cabin-door.
“Your friend Mr. Robinson, of course.”
“Yes, to be sure. You see, me and him’s been friends so long—it’s going on forty year off and on, boy and man—that now wherever you find one you’re likely to run agin t’other on the next tack. Wal, he uster say, Kite did, that while a word’s a word, it has as many sounds as there be people that uses it. So, while the word desartion has a pleasant sound coming from your lips, it’s mighty ugly from some; and I’m proud of the chance to clear myself of the charge, seeing as I didn’t do it intentional, but with the best of intentions.
“So, to begin with, the day on which I were left, or, as some might ignorantly call it, desarted, by my young shipmates, on that very day along comes a schooner, the same Philomeel that is now swinging under our starn. Although she were in charge of a crew of natyves, with a natyve cap’n, and in a powerful hurry, she stopped at my signal and sent a boat ashore to see what was up.
“Do all I could I couldn’t strike no bargain with ’em, nor get ’em to wait till I could go for the boys. The best they would do was to offer me passage to Oonalaska, where her owner lived, who, so they said, would give me a charter in no time. So, seeing as I couldn’t do no better, and thinking I’d be back again inside of three days, I left a note for the boys and went aboard. We made a quick run to Oonalaska, but when I tried to get a charter out of the owner, he wouldn’t hear of nothing but cash down, and as I hadn’t dollars enough to charter a dingy, let alone a schooner, there I was. For the best part of a week I stayed in that melancholy seaport, wishing as I’d never heered of it, and laboring day by day with the shark what owns the Philomeel. I offered him a quarter of the seal-skins, then a half, and finally the whole of ’em, only to let his schooner go and fetch off the boys.”
“What a horrid, avaricious old thing he must be!” cried Miss May, indignantly.