In vain Mr Collinson expostulated: he found, at length, that he must submit. The soldiers went out, and came back in a short time with some straw, which they piled up in one corner.
“Here’s enough for all of us,” they grunted out; “and as for food, some farina, and cold water to wash it down, is all that is allowed. If monsieur has any money, we may procure something more suitable to his taste.”
When Mr Collinson told his companions what the negro soldier said, they begged that he would not submit to any imposition.
“We can do very well without any supper, or with only what the niggers bring us,” answered Jack; “and maybe we shall all want it more by-and-by.”
However, when the bowl of boiled corn-meal was brought, they did ample justice to it, declaring that, for once in a way, it was not such bad food, after all. Old Grim, however, grumbled considerably, especially at night, when the rats began to chase each other about the place; and the negro soldiers kept up an interrupted snore, with occasional grunts, as a variation to the music.
“I don’t see why we should complain,” said Bill, at length. “We’re better off than we were on the raft; and, to my mind, it is not worse than being with those cut-throat looking fellows on board the privateer.”
“You are always contented,” answered Grimshaw. “I can make nothing out of you.”
“Just for the reason that I stick to my belief that the sun is shining up above the clouds, however dark they may be over us,” answered Bill.
In spite of the rats, and the snoring and grunting of the negroes, and the unpleasant odours, even Mr Collinson fell asleep, his example being followed by his companions. They were roused up by the black sergeant at daybreak, and, without any breakfast, were ordered to proceed on their journey.
“The people have given us supper and bed, and that’s all they’re obliged to do,” said the sergeant. “We must get breakfast where we stop at.”