“Good-morning, sir!  Will you come aboard this morning?”

John was not used to being called “Sir,” and the word fell pleasantly on ears that shrank from the detested syllable “Bub,” with which strangers were wont to greet him.

“Yes, if you please,” he answered, with some dignity.  It is, perhaps, difficult to be stately when one is only five feet tall, but John felt stately inside, as well as shy.  The stranger turned and made a sign to the other men, who came quickly, bringing a gang-plank, which they ran out from the schooner’s deck to the wharf.  The Skipper, for such the dark man appeared to be, made a sign of invitation, and after a moment’s hesitation, John ran across and stood on the deck of the white schooner.  Was he still dreaming?  Would he wake in a moment and find himself back in the garret at home, with Mr. Scraper shaking him?

“Welcome, young gentleman!” said the Skipper, holding out his hand.  “Welcome! the first visitor to the schooner.  That it is a child, brings luck for the next voyage, so we owe you a thank.  We arrived last night only.  And what is my young gentleman’s name?”

“My name is John,” said the boy, standing with down-cast eyes before this wonderful person.

“And mine!” said the Skipper,—­“two Johns, the black and the red.  You should be called Juan Colorado, for your hair of red gold.”

The boy looked up quickly, his cheek flushing; he did not like to be laughed at; but the Skipper’s face was perfectly grave, and only courtesy and hospitality shone from his dark eyes.

“I wonder what the schooner’s name is!” John said, presently, speaking low, and addressing his remarks apparently to the mast, which he kicked gently with his foot.

“The schooner is the ‘Nautilus,’ young gentleman!”

The reply came from the Skipper, not from the mast, yet it was still to the latter that the boy made his next observation.

“I wonder where she comes from, and where she is going, and what she is going to do here!” And having delivered himself breathlessly of these remarks, the boy John wished he could squeeze through a port-hole, or melt away into foam, or get away somehow, anyhow.

But now he felt himself lifted in strong arms, and set on the rail of the vessel, with his eyes just opposite those of the Skipper, so that he could not look up without meeting them; and on so looking up, it became evident immediately that this was the kindest man in the world, and that he liked boys, and that, finally, there was nothing to be afraid of.  On which John heaved a mighty sigh of relief, and then smiled, and then laughed.

“I like to know things!” he said, simply.

“Me, too,” replied the Skipper.  “I also like to know things.  How else shall we become wise, Juan Colorado?  Now listen, and you shall hear.  This schooner is the ‘Nautilus,’ as I say, and she is a Spanish schooner.  Yes;” (in reply to the question in the boy’s eyes,) “I am partly a Spanish man, but not all.  I have other mankind in me, young gentleman.  We come from the Bahamas.  Do you know where are they, the Bahamas?”