Facey groaned.
“Well, do you think I like it?” said Casement.
The lieutenant saluted and walked away to find his prisoner.
Billy was clanking his chains in a canvas hutch alongside the sick-bay, where a man lay dying. He looked up as Facey approached, and his face brightened as he recognised his captor. He was a good-looking young negro, and the symmetry of his limbs, and his air of intelligence and capacity, stood out in pleasant contrast with the rest of his comrades in Sunflower Bay.
“Billy,” said Facey, “they are going to make judge and jury for you by and by; and I am to talky-talky for you.”
“All same Queensland,” returned Billy. “May the Lord have mercy on your sinful soul!”
Facey was stupefied. “Where in thunder did you learn that?” he demanded.
“Oh, me savvy too much,” said Billy.
“Now, see here,” said the lieutenant. “You didn’t kill that trader?”
“Yes, I kill him,” said Billy, cheerfully.