The steward was a very peaceable and well-disposed person on board the yacht, and elsewhere, but under certain circumstances he was a belligerent colored man. He had a very reasonable and decided objection to being called a "nigger." He claimed that he was a gentleman, and while he behaved like a gentleman, he declined to be insulted with impunity. Mr. Ebénier saw the person who had applied this obnoxious epithet to him during the examination. It is possible that his heart beat a little quicker when he discovered the blackguard, as he regarded him; but it is certain that he did not turn to the right or the left, but proceeded on his way as though Dock had been a pygmy, instead of the heavy, stout man he was.
"See here, you nigger," Dock began, when the steward was within hailing distance.
"What do you want of me, you state-prison bird?" replied the colored man.
"What's that you say?" demanded Dock, angrily.
"I asked you what you wanted of me, you state-prison bird," repeated the steward.
"We'll settle that here," said Dock, rolling up his sleeves. "I don't allow any man, white or black, to insult me."
"That's just my position exactly," added Mr. Ebénier, throwing off his coat. "I don't allow any man, big or little, black or white, to insult me."
The unexpected readiness of the steward to settle the question on the spot rather startled and perplexed Dock, and he did not appear to be quite so ready to "pitch in" as he supposed he was. It is sometimes true of individuals, as it is of nations, that a readiness to fight is the surest guarantee of peace.
"What do you mean by calling me a state-prison bird?" demanded Dock, in less confident tones.
"What do you mean by calling me a nigger?" retorted the steward.