"Come below then, I want to have a talk with you."
Thus left alone, and overhearing a loud burst of laughter at the fore part of the steamer, Nigel went forward to see what was going on. He found a group of sailors round his comrade Moses, apparently engaged in good-natured "chaff."
"Come, now, blackey," said one; "be a good fellow for once in your life an' tell us what makes your master live on a desert island like Robinson Crusoe, an' go about the ocean in a canoe."
"Look 'ere now, whitey," returned Moses, "what you take me for?"
"A nigger, of course."
"Ob course, an' you're right for once, which is sitch an unusual t'ing dat I 'dvise you go an' ax de cappen to make a note ob it in de log. I's a nigger, an' a nigger's so much more 'cute dan a white man dat you shouldn't ought to expect him to blab his massa's secrets."
"Right you are, Moses. Come, then, if you won't reweal secrets, give us a song."
"Couldn't t'ink ob such a t'ing," said the negro, with a solemn, remonstrant shake of the head.
"Why not?"
"'Cause I neber sing a song widout a moral, an' I don't like to hurt your feelin's by singin' a moral dat would be sure to waken up some o' your consciences."