He took it from its cage on his finger. It hopped up his arm till it reached his cheek, where it began to peck at his whiskers, crying all the while in its shrill, lonely tones,—"Blind, blind, blind!"
We three were entranced; and an idea that was swiftly forming in my mind struggled for expression.
If this wonderful old man had, as he said, sailed the seas from Land's End to Ceylon, was it not possible that he had seen, even fought with, real pirates? Might he not have followed hot on the trail of hidden treasure? My cheeks burned as I tried to put the question.
"Did you—" I began, "did you—"
"Well?" he encouraged. "Did I what, John?"
"Oh, did you," I burst out, "ever see a pirate ship, an' pirates—real ones?"
His face lit up.
"Surely," he replied casually, "many an one."
"P'raps—" ventured Angel, with an excited laugh, "p'raps you're one yourself!"
The old gentleman searched our eager faces with his wide-open, sea blue eyes, then he looked cautiously into the room behind him, and, apparently satisfied that no one could overhear, he put his hand to the side of his mouth, and said in a loud hoarse whisper—