After this the poor savage walked doggedly about the deck for a minute or two, as if altogether irresolute what to do; at length he dived suddenly below.
"Breakfast is ready, sir," said the boy who acted the part of steward; and Lanyard, having asked me to accompany him, descended to do the honours to his company--rather a large party, by the way, for the size of the small cabin.
We all made the best use of our time for a quarter of an hour; at length little Binnacle broke ground.
"We have been hearing a curious history of this black fellow, sir."
"What was it? Little good of him you could have heard, I should have thought," quoth Sprawl.
"Why, no great harm either," said young De Walden, who now chimed in, with his low, modest, but beautifully pitched voice--"We have had his story at large, sir, this morning, after the decks were holystoned and washed down."
"Come, Master De Walden, give it us then," said I.
"Beg pardon, sir," said the beautiful boy, "no one can do justice to it but himself."
"Shall I call him, sir?" said Mr Marline.
I looked enquiringly at old Davie Doublepipe, as much as to say, Are those boys quizzing us now? "What say you, Sprawl, eh?"
"Why not, man--why not?" replied my excellent coadjutor. "If it were only to amuse the lads, surely there is no harm in it. But here, give me another cup of coffee,--and, Master Marline, the wing of that spitchcock chicken, if you please--Why, Brail, if nothing else thrives in that most damnable _Sierra Leone_, fowls do."
While the lieutenant was employed in completing his stowage--no regular _Stevedor_ could have gone more scientifically about it--little Binnacle ushered in our dark friend. What a change in his outward man! Where he had got his garments heaven knows, but there was the frantic barbarian of half an hour ago, newly and freshly rigged in a clean pair of duck trowsers, canvass shoes, and a good check shirt, with his never-failing black belt slung across his right shoulder, and supporting the rusty bayonet, already mentioned. He drew himself up at the door, soldier fashion, and put his hand to his cap. The light from the small scuttle above shone down strong on his tatooed countenance, and lit up his steady bronze-like features. I waited in expectation of his speaking. But the talkative savage of yesterday evening had now subsided into the quiet orderly soldier.