s give me a feeling as we're going to get out o' this job
without being cooked and eaten. You see how they go down on their knees
like to old Bottle-nose yonder?"

"Yes."

"Well, it's because he's a white man and not a bit afraid of 'em."

"Yes, of course; but we--I mean, I am."

"Not you, sir. Didn't look like it just now. Well, you're a white un.
I won't call you a white man; that would be gammoning you, because man
you aren't yet. But you're a plucked un, and they was all delighted to
see you hit their mate. Well, you go on like that, and they'll be
afraid of you. There's something in a white skin as is too much for
them, and you've only got to let 'em see that you don't care a quid o'
'bacco for their blunt wood sticks and knob clubs, to keep 'em where
they ought to be, down--right down. For they're only good enough to
make door-mats to wipe your shoes on. Eat us? I should like to ketch
'em at it!"

"I shouldn't, Bob."

"Ah, well, I didn't quite mean that, sir; it was only a way o'
speaking."

"Are you two chaps going to be all night?" came in a fierce voice from
the cabin stairs.

Carey stepped up to the speaker directly.

"My black pack haven't worried you, then?" said the man, with a grin
which showed two or three yellow teeth. "I began to think they'd eaten
you raw, as you didn't come back. There, I don't want to starve you;
get below and have your supper along with your mate. I've half done
mine."

They went into the saloon, to find the doctor waiting for them with some
food ready at one end of the table, while at the other the beachcomber's
stood, consisting of a ship's biscuit and about half of the bottle of
rum, which he had taken possession of before they came back.

"Get your prog, my lads, and then go to sleep. And look here, don't you
either of you try any games, or maybe you won't see daylight again."

As may be supposed, the trio had not much appetite for their suppers,
but they made pretence of eating, and saw that their captor was watching
them all the time, sipping his neat rum and nibbling a little of the
hard biscuit, which he softened a little at times by dipping it in his
rum glass.

"Now then," he said at last, "is that your cabin?"

"It is mine," said the doctor.

"All right. Go in then, all three of you."

"I don't sleep here," growled Bostock. "I've got a bunk below."

"You'll go in there," said the man, fiercely.

"But there aren't room."

"Sleep on