“And what’s your name, my fine fellow?” asked Murray, as he eyed the unattractive personage. The governor had certainly not belied him when he described him as destitute of good looks. On the top of his grisly head he wore a large white turban. His colour might once have been brown, but it was now as black as that of a negro, frightfully scarred and marked all over. He had but one eye, and that was a blinker, which twisted and turned in every direction when he spoke, except at the person whom he was addressing. His lips were thick, his nostrils extended—indeed, his countenance partook more of the negro than of the Arab type. His feet were enormous, with toes widely spread. He wore a loose jacket, striped with blue, over a dirty cotton coat reaching to his knees, and huge blue baggy trousers.
“Me Haggis ben Hamed at your sarvice, Señor Capitan,” he answered, making a salaam; “me undertake show where you find all the slaves on the coast, and ebbery big ship and dhow that sails.”
“And what payment do you expect for rendering us these services?” asked Murray.
“Forty pesados for one month, sar; eighty, if I take one dhow; and hundred and sixty, if I help you to one big ship.”
“Pretty heavy payment, Master Hamed,” observed Murray.
“Ah, Señor Capitan, you not take one vessel without my help—you see,” answered the interpreter, drawing himself up and looking very important. Murray suspected that he was right, and finally agreed to pay the reward demanded. From that moment Hamed was installed on board.
As a fair breeze blew out of the harbour, Murray was in a hurry to be off. The pilot, however, asserted that he could not venture to take out the ship except during broad daylight. The Opal had therefore to wait till the next morning. The pilot accordingly took his departure, promising to come off again at an early hour. Some time after sunset, Adair and the master were walking the deck, discussing the plan of their proposed boat excursion, to which the commander had agreed, when, as they turned aft, they caught sight of the dark figure of a man who had just climbed over the taffrail, and now stood quaking and shivering before them.
“Where do you come from, my friend?” asked Jos; but the stranger did not reply, except by an increased chattering of his teeth, though he put up his hand in an attitude of supplication.
“Well, no one wishes to hurt you,” said Green; “come forward and let us see what you are like,” and he called to the quartermaster to bring a lantern. The stranger, gaining courage from the master’s kind tone of voice, followed him and Adair. He was evidently greatly exhausted.
“Bring a cup of hot coffee and some biscuit; it will restore the poor wretch, and help him to tell us what he wants,” said the master.