ely in his movements, and
so glib in his speech, as to provoke the suspicion that he had imbibed
again at the conclusion of his oration on shore. "Here, you, Sopsy!"
he continued in a loud voice.

A lantern was burning on the companion, which enabled the party to see
that the waist of the vessel was compactly packed with bales of cotton.
The schooner seemed to be of considerable size, and Christy thought she
must be loaded with a very large cargo of the precious merchandise. In
answer to the captain's call, Sopsy, who proved to be the negro cook of
the vessel, presented himself.

"All these people want something to eat, Sopsy. Let the crew eat in
the deck-house for'ad, and bring a lunch into the cabin right off,"
continued Captain Sullendine.

"Yis, sar," replied the cook with emphasis. "Git 'em quicker'n a man kin
swaller his own head. Libes dar a man wid soul so dead"--

"Never mind the varse, Sopsy," interposed the captain.

"--As never to hisself have said"--

"Hurry up, Sopsy!"

"He don't say dat, Massa Cap'n," added the cook, as he shuffled off over
the bales of cotton.

"Hullo there, Bokes! Where are you, Bokes?" called the captain again.

"On deck, Cap'n," replied a white man, crawling out from a small opening
in the bales.

"Wake up, Bokes! You ain't dead yet."

"No, sir; wide awake's a coon in a hencoop," added the man, who appeared
to be one of the two left on board by the deserters, the cook being the
other.

"Be alive, Bokes! Here, wait a minute!" and the captain ran down the
companion ladder to the cabin, from which he presently appeared with
a bottle in each hand. "Do you see them men on the cotton, Bokes?" he
asked, pointing with one of them at the six Belleviters, who stood where
they had taken their stations after hoisting up the quarter-boat.

"I see sunthin over thar," replied the seaman, who seemed to be hardly
awake yet.

"Them's the new crew I shipped to-night--six on 'em, or seven with the
second mate," added the captain. "Show 'em over to the deck-house, and
let 'em pick out their bunks."

"Seven on 'em; the cook and me makes nine, and they ain't but eight
berths in the deck-house, Cap'n," replied Bokes, who seemed to be afraid
of losing his own sleeping quarters.

"You can sleep on the deck, then. These are all good men, and they must
have good berths," added the captain. "You can sleep as well in the
scuppers as anywhere else, Bokes; and you ain't more'n half awake any
ti