the board in front of him;
he looked steadily in Herrick's face, and Herrick as steadily looked
upon the table and the pattering fingers; there was a gentle oscillation
of the anchored ship, and a big patch of sunlight travelled to and fro
between the one and the other.

"Hear me!" Herrick burst out suddenly.

"No, you better hear me first," said Davis. "Hear me and understand me.
We've got no use for that fellow, whatever you may have. He's your kind,
he's not ours; he's took to you, and he's wiped his boots on me and
Huish. Save him if you can!"

"Save him?" repeated Herrick.

"Save him, if you're able!" reiterated Davis, with a blow of his
clenched fist. "Go ashore, and talk him smooth; and if you get him and
his pearls aboard, I'll spare him. If you don't, there's going to be a
funeral. Is that so, Huish? does that suit you?"

"I ain't a forgiving man," said Huish, "but I'm not the sort to spoil
business neither. Bring the bloke on board and bring his pearls along
with him, and you can have it your own way; maroon him where you
like,--I'm agreeable."

"Well, and if I can't?" cried Herrick, while the sweat streamed upon his
face. "You talk to me as if I was God Almighty, to do this and that! But
if I can't?"

"My son," said the captain, "you better do your level best, or you'll
see sights!"

"O yes," said Huish. "O crikey, yes!" He looked across at Herrick with a
toothless smile that was shocking in its savagery; and, his ear caught
apparently by the trivial expression he had used, broke into a piece of
the chorus of a comic song which he must have heard twenty years before
in London: meaningless gibberish that, in that hour and place, seemed
hateful as a blasphemy: "Hikey, pikey, crikey, fikey, chillingawallaba
dory."

The captain suffered him to finish; his face was unchanged.

"The way things are, there's many a man that wouldn't let you go
ashore," he resumed. "But I'm not that kind. I know you'd never go back
on me, Herrick! Or if you choose to,--go, and do it, and be damned!" he
cried, and rose abruptly from the table.

He walked out of the house; and as he reached the door turned and called
Huish, suddenly and violently, like the barking of a dog. Huish
followed, and Herrick remained alone in the cabin.

"Now, see here!" whispered Davis. "I know that man. If you open your
mouth to him again, you'll ruin all."

CHAPTER VIII

BETTER ACQUAINTANCE

The boat was gone again, and already