"No, Jule, I means everythin' I says, an' a lot mo' besides. I wants yo' to marry me, sho' 'nuff," said the big sailor earnestly.
Julia rapidly was soothing herself. There was something so strong and pleading in the man's voice that she almost forgot the liberties he had taken, and looked at him keenly. "Aw, gwine away, yo' black man; whar yo' got money to marry a gal like me?" She was now smiling at him; but edging away into the doorway of the little cabin which stood by the coral roadway in Key West. She really did not dislike the sailor; for Bahama Bill had a reputation for being a good money-getter and a most excellent spender. As mate of the wrecking sloop Sea-Horse, he often came in with a few English pounds sterling, or a pocketful of good American dollars, earned in his business along the Great Bahama Bank. Three days, however, always was the limit of his prosperity.
Now he had been ashore for a week, and consequently was the possessor of nothing more than a clasp-knife, a dirty pair of trousers and jumper, and an old clay pipe. Shoes he had left at some friend's house for a trivial debt for a handful of cigars, and head-gear he did not need. He was more or less contented, and was entirely willing to enter into the married state, feeling with the utmost confidence that money was a plentiful article and easy for a man of parts to procure. His wild excesses seemed vain in the sober light of the tropic sunshine, and it manifestly was the time for him to settle down to a state of quiet bliss with Julia.
"I kin get plenty o' money, Jule," said he softly.
"When yo' shows me, den yo' cain talk wif me, an' not befo'," said Julia. "I ain't doin' no washin' 'n' ironin' for no one. I'se near eighteen now, an' I ain't married no one yet."
"But, Jule, I kin get money easy enough. Come here now an' let me tell yo' how I kin."
"No, sah, no monkeyin'," said Julia, edging farther into the doorway. "Yo' get de money fust, 'n'—'n'—den—well, yo' knows—'bout—'bout—dat."
Then she softly but firmly shut the door. He caught a glimpse of her through the kitchen window, and she smiled and waved her hand so that he almost was tempted to force an entrance; but he remembered that the Cuban who owned the house would likely hear him and perhaps fill him with bird-shot. He gave one longing look, and strode toward the harbour. The wrecking sloop was to sail that day, sponging to the northward along the Keys.
The first few days were hard on him. He was solemn and lonesome in spite of himself, and his quiet behaviour was noticed by his shipmates. They made the remarks usual among rough men of the forecastle, but Bill took no notice.