ld, namely, that black people are not as good as white, by
rushing into Poopy's arms and attempting to lick her black face as he
had tried to do to Alice. As the dark-skinned girl had no objection (for
tastes differ, you see), and received the caresses with a quiet "Hee!
hee!" Toozle was extremely gratified.

Now, it happened that Jo Bumpus, oppressed with a feeling of concern for
his former captain, and with a feeling of doubt as to the stirring
events in which he was an actor being waking realities, had wandered up
the mountain-side in order to indulge in profound philosophical
reflections.

Happening to hear the noise caused by the joyful meeting which we have
just described, he turned aside to see what all the "row" could be
about, and thus came unexpectedly on Alice and her friends.

About the same time it chanced (for things sometimes do happen by chance
in a very remarkable way, it chanced that Will Corrie, being also much
depressed about Gascoyne), resolved to take into his confidence Dick
Price, the boatswain, with whom during their short voyage together he
had become intimate.

He found that worthy seated on a cask at the end of the rude pile of
coral rocks that formed the quay of Sandy Cove, surrounded by some of
his shipmates, all of whom, as well as himself, were smoking their pipes
and discussing things in general.

Corrie went forward and pulled Dick by the sleeve.

"Hallo, boy! what do you want with me?" said the boatswain.

"I want to speak to you."

"Well, lad, fire away."

"Yes, but I want you to come with me," said the boy, with an anxious and
rather mysterious look.

"Very good--heave ahead," said the boatswain, getting up, and
following Corrie with a peculiarly nautical roll.

After he had been led through the settlement and a considerable way up
the mountain in silence, the boatswain suddenly stopped and said:
"Hallo! hold on; my timbers won't stand much more o' this sort o' thing.
I was built for navigatin' the seas,--I was not for cruisin' on the
land. We're far enough out of ear-shot, I s'pose in this here bit of a
plantation. Come, what have ye got to say to me? You ain't a goin' to
tell me the Freemason's word, are ye? For, if so, don't trouble
yourself; I wouldn't listen to it on no account w'atever. It's too
mysterious, that is, for me."

"Dick Price," said Corrie, looking up in the face of the seaman, with a
serious expression that was not often seen on his round countenance