se would forward the
object he happened to have in view. He put out his hand in the most
cool and impudent manner to shake Adair's, and then stood calmly eyeing
his uninvited visitors, as much as to say, "Now make the most of me you
can."

"Well, amigo, where are you come from?" asked Adair. The negoda, who
seemed to expect some such question, though he probably did not
understand the words, pointed to the south, and then uttered a long
string of sentences, in which Adair thought he could distinguish
Zanzibar.

"Well, my friend, and who are all these people you have got on board?"
continued Adair, pointing to the silent figures on deck.

The Arab poured forth a torrent of words, pointing in the same direction
as before, and next putting a piece of coin from one hand into the
other.

"Yes, I understand; they are travellers, going to see the world, and
have paid their passage-money, all right and proper. And when they get
to Zanzibar, what are they going to do?" asked Adair.

The last question the Arab evidently did not understand, and Adair saw
that it would be useless to press the point, knowing that whatever the
Arab might say, whether true or false, he should not be the wiser. "And
now, as to those fellows tumbling about there, and butting against each
other with their curly pates, and looking more like chimney-sweeps than
sailors," said Adair, "what have they got to do here?"

The Arab, who guessed by the direction of Adair's eyes that he was
asking questions about the men forward, made signs of pulling and
hauling.

"Oh, they form part of your crew, do they? Well, I should like to see
your papers, and how many hands you are licenced to carry," said Adair,
making the usual signal of pretending to write, which the negoda clearly
understanding, produced from his capacious pocket various documents
scrawled all over with Arabic characters.

Adair took them, but of course did not understand a single one of the
curious-shaped letters and papers. "Very shipshape," he remarked,
pretending to scan the papers. "If you have no slaves on board, nor
fittings for slaves, we must let you proceed on your voyage," he added,
returning the papers with a polite bow, on which the skipper appeared
highly delighted. "You'll give me leave first, however, to search the
hold and take a look into your cabin." The negoda's countenance fell,
as Adair, followed by two of his men, made their way into the space
under the high po