When Billy awoke the day was just breaking. He stretched himself, yawned, sat up, and looked about him with the confused air of one not quite awake.
“Hallo!” he cried gaily, “where on earth am I?”
“You ain’t on earth, lad; you’re afloat,” replied Jones, who still sat at the helm.
At once the boy remembered everything, and shrank within himself. As he did so, he observed the pilot-coat which covered him, and knew that it must have been placed where it was by Jones. His resolution to hold out was shaken; still he did not give in.
Mr Jones now began to comment in a quiet good-natured way upon the weather and the prospects of the voyage (which excited Billy’s curiosity very much), and suggested that breakfast would not be a bad thing, and that a drop o’ rum might be agreeable, but took care never to make his remarks so pointed as to call for an answer. Just as the sun was rising he got up slowly, cast loose the stays and halyards of mast and sail, lifted the mast out of its place, and deliberately hove the whole affair overboard, remarking in a quiet tone that, having served his purpose, he didn’t want mast or sail any longer. In the same deliberate way he unshipped the rudder and cast it away. He followed this up by throwing overboard one of the oars, and then taking the only remaining oar, he sculled and steered the boat therewith gently.
Billy, who thought his companion must be either drunk or mad, could contain himself no longer.
“I say, old fellow,” he remarked, “you’re comin’ it pretty strong! Wot on earth are you up to, and where in all the world are ’ee goin’ to?”
“Oh come, you know,” answered Jones in a remonstrative tone, “I may be an easy-goin’ chap, but I can’t be expected to tell all my secrets except to friends.”
“Well, well,” said Billy, with a sigh, “it’s no use tryin’ to hold out. I’ll be as friendly as I can; only. I tells you candid, I’ll mizzle whenever I gits ashore. I’m not agoin’ to tell no end o’ lies to please you any longer, so I give ’ee fair warning,” said Billy stoutly.
“All right, my lad,” said the wily Jones, who felt that having subdued the boy thus far, he would have little difficulty in subduing him still further, in course of time, and by dint of judicious treatment; “I don’t want ’ee to tell lies on my account, an’ I’ll let you go free as soon as ever we get ashore. So now, let’s shake hands over it, and have a glass o’ grog and a bit o’ breakfast.”