King o' the Beach Part 29

"Go and join 'em then, you sable son of a three-legged pitch-pot."

"Got meat?"

"Yes," said Carey, and he served out the big lumps cut ready, while Bostock held the light, the blacks taking it steadily enough till all were served, and Carey stood looking at them.

Then a murmur arose, Black Jack shouting the one word "'bacco," and his fellows all joining.

"Can't you wait a minute, you set o' undressed n.i.g.g.e.r minstrels?"

growled Bostock. "There, give 'em the cakes o' 'bacco, sir, and I wish it would make 'em sick."

Carey had placed the oblong squares of compressed leaf in his pocket, and he now took out half-a-dozen, the light being cast upon his hands and giving the boy a glimpse of one of the party in the act of making a s.n.a.t.c.h.

Carey recalled his orders, and he was in the right humour for taking advantage of it, for his blood was up, and he jumped at the opportunity of getting a little satisfaction out of his enemies.

The black was quick, but the boy was equally so, and as the savage made a s.n.a.t.c.h, Carey's disengaged fist flew out in good school-boy fas.h.i.+on.

There was the sound of a heavy blow, a yell, and the black bounded off the deck, to come down again club in hand and grinning ferociously as he raised it as if to strike.

Carey did not pause to think.

"Ah, would you?" he cried, and he struck out again quick as lightning, striking the black on the right cheek and drawing back quickly, expecting a general attack for his pugnacity.

But to his great surprise and satisfaction there was a yell of laughter, and the party danced round him, shouldering their fellow away, as in a series of strange antics they displayed their delight at his discomfiture.

"'Bacco, 'bacco!" they kept on shouting, as they pressed round, each taking his portion eagerly enough, but there was no s.n.a.t.c.hing, till all had received a cake save the one who had been made to give way.

"There you are," cried Carey, holding out the last, but standing on his guard so as to avoid an expected blow.

But it did not come. The black took his cake and joined the others, to go back chattering to partake of their meal, while Carey and Bostock turned to go back to the cabin.

"Now, I call that there plucky," said the old sailor, gruffly.

"What?" said Carey, wondering.

"You hitting that walking blacking bottle twice over in the mouth. I don't know as I should ha' dared."

"Plucky!" said Carey, wonderingly. "You don't know what a fright I felt in when I did it; but I was in such a pa.s.sion that I was obliged to hit something."

"And so you did, sir, a regular smeller. I don't believe a French or a Jarman boy would ha' done it."

"Nonsense, Bob."

"Oh, no, it aren't, my lad; it's some sense, and it's taught me a deal."

"What do you mean?"

"Why, it's give me a feeling as we're going to get out o' this job without being cooked and eaten. You see how they go down on their knees like to old Bottle-nose yonder?"

"Yes."

"Well, it's because he's a white man and not a bit afraid of 'em."

"Yes, of course; but we--I mean, I am."

"Not you, sir. Didn't look like it just now. Well, you're a white un.

I won't call you a white man; that would be gammoning you, because man you aren't yet. But you're a plucked un, and they was all delighted to see you hit their mate. Well, you go on like that, and they'll be afraid of you. There's something in a white skin as is too much for them, and you've only got to let 'em see that you don't care a quid o'

'bacco for their blunt wood sticks and k.n.o.b clubs, to keep 'em where they ought to be, down--right down. For they're only good enough to make door-mats to wipe your shoes on. Eat us? I should like to ketch 'em at it!"

"I shouldn't, Bob."

"Ah, well, I didn't quite mean that, sir; it was only a way o'

speaking."

"Are you two chaps going to be all night?" came in a fierce voice from the cabin stairs.

Carey stepped up to the speaker directly.

"My black pack haven't worried you, then?" said the man, with a grin which showed two or three yellow teeth. "I began to think they'd eaten you raw, as you didn't come back. There, I don't want to starve you; get below and have your supper along with your mate. I've half done mine."

They went into the saloon, to find the doctor waiting for them with some food ready at one end of the table, while at the other the beachcomber's stood, consisting of a s.h.i.+p's biscuit and about half of the bottle of rum, which he had taken possession of before they came back.

"Get your prog, my lads, and then go to sleep. And look here, don't you either of you try any games, or maybe you won't see daylight again."

As may be supposed, the trio had not much appet.i.te for their suppers, but they made pretence of eating, and saw that their captor was watching them all the time, sipping his neat rum and nibbling a little of the hard biscuit, which he softened a little at times by dipping it in his rum gla.s.s.

"Now then," he said at last, "is that your cabin?"

"It is mine," said the doctor.

"All right. Go in then, all three of you."

"I don't sleep here," growled Bostock. "I've got a bunk below."

"You'll go in there," said the man, fiercely.

"But there aren't room."

"Sleep on the floor then."

Bostock turned to the doctor, but the latter's eye was averted, and he made no sign, nor spoke.

"All right," growled the old sailor, and he turned to Carey. "I won't snore more'n I can help, sir," he said. "It aren't my fault."

"In with you all," said the beachcomber, roughly; "and look here, I'm going to sit here a bit to finish my physic, so don't come out and disturb me. My black pack used to come prowling round sometimes of a night, but they never do now."

As he spoke he took out a revolver and c.o.c.ked it, before laying it down beside his tumbler of spirits with a meaning look.

"Are we to consider ourselves prisoners, sir?" said the doctor, speaking at last.