o me you could see anything at all after such a ram!"
remarked Moses Pyne, with a yawn, as he lay back and rested his head on
a tuft of grass. "The shock seemed to me fit to sink an iron-clad."

"But why _pretend_ to be fond of the Arabs?" asked Stevenson. "Don't
you think it would be sufficient that we should obey orders quietly
without any humbug or pretence at all about it, till a chance to escape
shall come in our way?"

"Don't you think, Stevenson," said Miles, "that there's a certain amount
of humbug and pretence even in quiet obedience to orders, when such
obedience is not the result of submission, but of a desire to throw
people off their guard?"

"But my obedience _is_ the result of submission," returned the marine
stoutly. "I do really submit--first, because it is God's will, for I
cannot help it; second, because it is the only course that will enable
me to escape bad treatment; third, because I wish to gain the good-will
of the men who have me in their power whether I escape or not; and,
fourth--"

"Hallo! old man, how many heads are you goin' to give us in that there
sermon?" asked Moses.

"This is the last head, Moses, and you needn't be anxious, for I ain't
going to enlarge on any of 'em. My fourth reason is, that by doing as
common-sense bids me, our foes will be brought thereby to that state of
mind which will be favourable to everything--our escape included--and I
can't help that, you know. It ain't my fault if they become trustful,
is it?"

"No, nor it ain't no part o' your dooty to spoil their trustfulness by
failin' to take advantage of it," said Molloy, with a grin; "but it do
seem to me, Stevenson, as if there wor a strong smack o' the Jesuit, in
what you say."

"I hope not," replied the marine. "Anyhow, no one would expect me,
surely, to go an' say straight out to these fellows, `I'm goin' to obey
orders an' be as meek as a lamb, in order to throw you off your guard
an' bolt when I get the chance!'"

"Cer'nly not. 'Cause why? Firstly, you couldn't say it at all till
you'd learned Arabic," returned Molloy; "secondly--if I may be allowed
for to follow suit an' sermonise--'cause you shouldn't say it if you
could; an', thirdly, 'cause you'd be a most awful Jack-ass to say it if
you did. Now, it's my advice, boys, that we go to sleep, for we won't
have an easy day of it to-morrow, if I may judge from to-day."

Having delivered this piece of advice with much decision, the seaman
ext