party."

"But what's the reason?" asked a third. "What call has Parmiter to have
such a desperate spite against Burke? He got a lickin', in course, but
what's a lickin' to a Englishman? Rot it all, the youngster en't a bad
matey. He've led a dog's life, that he have, and I've never heard a
grumble, nary one; have you?"

"True," said the first. "And I tell you what it is. I believe Bulger's in
the right of it, and 'tis all along o' that there Diggle, hang him! He's
too perlite by half, with his smile and his fine lingo and all. And
what's he keep his hand wropt up in that there velvet mitten thing for?
I'd like to know that. There's summat mortal queer about Diggle, mark my
words, and we'll find it out if we live long enough."

"Wasn't it Diggle brought Burke aboard?"

"Course it was; that's what proves it, don't you see? He stuffs him up as
he's to be supercargo; call that number one. He brings him aboard and
makes him ship boy; that's number two. He looks us all up and down with
those rat's eyes of his, and thinks we're a pretty ugly lot, and Parmiter
the ugliest, how's that for number three? Then he makes hissel sweet to
Parmiter; I've seed him more'n once; that's number four. Then there's
that there block: five; and today's hanky panky: six; and it wants one
more to make seven, and that's the perfect number, I've heard tell, 'cos
o' the Seven Champions o' Christendom."

"I guess you've reasoned that out mighty well," drawled the melancholy
voice of Mr. Toley, who had come up unseen and heard the last speech.
"Well, I'll give you number seven."

"Thunder and blazes, sir, he en't bin and gone and done it already?"

"No, he en't. Number seven is, be kind o' tender with young Burke. Count
them words. He's had enough kicks. That's all."

And the melancholy man went away as silently as he had come.

Chapter 9: In which the Good Intent makes a running fight:
Mr. Toley makes a suggestion.

Making good sailing, the Good Intent reached Saldanhas Bay, where she put
in for a few necessary repairs, then safely rounded the Cape, and after a
short stay at Johanna, one of the Comoro Islands, taking in fresh
provisions there, set sail for the Malabar coast. The wind blew steadily
from the southwest, and she ran merrily before it.

During this part of the voyage Desmond found his position somewhat
improved. His pluck had won the rough admiration of the men; Captain
Barker was not so constantly chevying him; and Mr