“Well, well, since it is your pleasure, sir, why, no man can dispute it.  But no account has been rendered of the Bristol-man, and great expectations were had aboard here from that very ship.  Your Honour is a reasonable gentleman, and will not be surprised that people, who are on the look-out for an outward-bound West-Indiaman, should be unwilling to take up with a battered and empty launch, in her stead.”

“Ay, sir, if I will it, you shall take an oar, a tiler a thole, for your portion.  No more of this You saw the condition of his ship with your own eyes; and where is the seaman who has not, on some evil day, been compelled to admit that his art is nothing, when the elements are against him?  Who saved this ship, in the very gust that has robbed us of our prize?  Was it your skill? or was it that of a man who has often done it before, and who may one day leave you to your ignorance to manage your own interests?  It is enough that I believe him faithful.  There is no time to convince your dulness of the propriety of all that’s done.  Away, and send me the two men who so nobly stepped between their officer and mutiny.”

Then came Fid, followed by the negro, rolling along the deck, and thumbing his hat with one hand, while the other sought an awkward retreat in a part of his vestments.

“You have done well, my lad; you and your messmate”——­

“No messmate, your Honour, seeing that he is a nigger,” interrupted Fid.  “The chap messes with the other blacks, but we take a pull at the can, now and then, in company.”

“Your friend, then, if you prefer that term.”

“Ay, ay, sir; we are friendly enough at odd times, though a breeze often springs up between us.  Guinea has a d—­d awkward fashion of luffing up in his talk; and your Honour knows it isn’t always comfortable to a white man to be driven to leeward by a black.  I tell him it is inconvenient.  He is a good enough fellow in the main, howsomever, sir; and, as he is just an African bred and born, I hope you’ll be good enough to overlook his little failings.”

“Were I otherwise disposed,” returned the Rover, “his steadiness and activity to-day would plead in his favour.”

“Yes, yes, sir, he is somewhat steady, which is more than I can always say in my own behalf.  Then as for seamanship, there are few men who are his betters; I wish your Honour would take the trouble to walk forward, and look at the heart he turned in the mainstay, no later than the last calm; it takes the strain as easy as a small sin sits upon a rich man’s conscience.”

“I am satisfied with your description; you call him Guinea?”

“Call him by any thing along that coast; for he is noway particular, seeing he was never christened, and knows nothing at all of the bearings and distances of religion.  His lawful name is S’ip, or Shipio Africa, taken, as I suppose, from the circumstance that he was first shipp’d from that quarter of the world.  But, as respects names, the fellow is as meek as a lamb; you may call him any thing, provided you don’t call him too late to his grog.”