Of course, I was indignant, and swore I had just come ashore from a long voyage, and all that sort of thing—just to see, you know, if it would deceive that slave. But it didn’t. He knew me. Then I reproached him for betraying me. He was more surprised than hurt. He stretched his eyes wide, and said:
“What, wouldst have me let thee, of all men, escape and not hang with us, when thou’rt the very cause of our hanging? Go to!”
“Go to” was their way of saying “I should smile!” or “I like that!” Queer talkers, those people.
Well, there was a sort of bastard justice in his view of the case, and so I dropped the matter. When you can’t cure a disaster by argument, what is the use to argue? It isn’t my way. So I only said:
“You’re not going to be hanged. None of us are.”
Both men laughed, and the slave said:
“Ye have not ranked as a fool—before. You might better keep your reputation, seeing the strain would not be for long.”
“It will stand it, I reckon. Before to-morrow we shall be out of prison, and free to go where we will, besides.”
The witty officer lifted at his left ear with his thumb, made a rasping noise in his throat, and said:
“Out of prison—yes—ye say true. And free likewise to go where ye will, so ye wander not out of his grace the Devil’s sultry realm.”