Bill looked at me in surprise, and I thought I observed a sad expression pass across his sun-burnt face.
“An’ where have you been used to friendly conversation,” said Bill, looking down again into the sea; “not on that Coral Island, I take it?”
“Yes, indeed,” said I energetically; “I have spent many of the happiest months in my life on that Coral Island;” and without waiting to be further questioned, I launched out into a glowing account of the happy life that Jack and Peterkin and I had spent together, and related minutely every circumstance that befell us while on the island.
“Boy, boy,” said Bill, in a voice so deep that it startled me, “this is no place for you.”
“That’s true,” said I; “I’m of little use on board, and I don’t like my comrades; but I can’t help it, and at anyrate I hope to be free again soon.”
“Free?” said Bill, looking at me in surprise.
“Yes, free,” returned I; “the captain said he would put me ashore after this trip was over.”
“This trip! Hark’ee, boy,” said Bill, lowering his voice, “what said the captain to you the day you came aboard?”
“He said that he was a trader in sandal-wood and no pirate, and told me that if I would join him for this trip he would give me a good share of the profits or put me on shore in some civilized island if I chose.”
Bill’s brows lowered savagely as he muttered, “Ay, he said truth when he told you he was a sandal-wood trader, but he lied when—”