ie's eyes opened a little.

"Yes, but you told me a great deal about the hero that you must have
read before somewhere."

"I haven't any time for reading, except when you let me sit here, and
on Sundays I'm on my bicycle or down the river all day. There's nothing
wrong about the hero, is there?"

"Tell me again and I shall understand clearly. You say that your hero
went pirating. How did he live?"

"He was on the lower deck of this ship-thing that I was telling you
about."

"What sort of ship?"

"It was the kind rowed with oars, and the sea spurts through the
oar-holes and the men row sitting up to their knees in water. Then
there's a bench running down between the two lines of oars and an
overseer with a whip walks up and down the bench to make the men work."

"How do you know that?"

"It's in the tale. There's a rope running overhead, looped to the upper
deck, for the overseer to catch hold of when the ship rolls. When the
overseer misses the rope once and falls among the rowers, remember the
hero laughs at him and gets licked for it. He's chained to his oar of
course--the hero."

"How is he chained?"

"With an iron band round his waist fixed to the bench he sits on, and a
sort of handcuff on his left wrist chaining him to the oar. He's on the
lower deck where the worst men are sent, and the only light comes from
the hatchways and through the oar-holes. Can't you imagine the sunlight
just squeezing through between the handle and the hole and wobbling
about as the ship moves?"

"I can, but I can't imagine your imagining it."

"How could it be any other way? Now you listen to me. The long oars on
the upper deck are managed by four men to each bench, the lower ones
by three, and the lowest of all by two. Remember it's quite dark on the
lowest deck and all the men there go mad. When a man dies at his oar
on that deck he isn't thrown overboard, but cut up in his chains and
stuffed through the oar-hole in little pieces."

"Why?" I demanded, amazed, not so much at the information as the tone of
command in which it was flung out.

"To save trouble and to frighten the others. It needs two overseers to
drag a man's body up to the top deck; and if the men at the lower deck
oars were left alone, of course they'd stop rowing and try to pull up
the benches by all standing up together in their chains."

"You've a most provident imagination. Where have you been reading about
galleys and galley-slaves?"

"Nowhere