“You did?” cried the other.
“White fellow no good; I kill him,” said the prisoner.
“If you tell that to the captain he’ll shoot you,” said Facey. If the prisoner was to be defended he was going to give him all the help he could.
The black boy looked distressed and nodded a forlorn assent.
“You’ll be a big fool to say that,” said Facey.
“White fellow no good; I kill him,” repeated Billy.
“You unmitigated idiot, you’ll do for yourself,” cried the lieutenant, angrily. “What’s the good of my talking for you if you can’t stand up for yourself?”
Billy began to whimper; the other’s loud voice and threatening demeanour seemed to overwhelm him.
Facey was struck with contrition. “Now shut up that snivelling,” he said, more kindly. “Tell me the truth, Bill. Isn’t this some humbuggery of old Jib’s—a regular plant, to shield somebody else at the cost of your hide?”
Billy rolled his eyes, and wiped away the tears with a grimy paw.