“One should be ashamed of idleness in these stirring times.”

“It is well.  This is an oddly-constructed world in which we live, Mr Wilder!  Some think themselves in danger, with a foundation beneath them no less solid than terra firma, while others are content to trust their fortunes on the sea.  So, again, some there are who believe praying is the business of man; and then come others who are sparing of their breath, and take those favours for themselves which they have not always the leisure or the inclination to ask for.  No doubt you thought it prudent to inquire into the nature of our trade, before you came hither in quest of employment?”

“You are said to be a slaver, among the townsmen of Newport.”

“They are never wrong, your village gossips!  If witchcraft ever truly existed on earth, the first of the cunning tribe has been a village innkeeper; the second, its doctor; and the third, its priest.  The right to the fourth honour may be disputed between the barber and the tailor.—­Roderick!”

The Captain accompanied the word by which he so unceremoniously interrupted himself, by striking a light blow on a Chinese gong, which, among other curiosities, was suspended from one of the beams of the upper deck, within reach of his hand.

“I say, Roderick, do you sleep?”

A light and active boy darted out of one of the two little state-rooms which were constructed on the quarters of the ship, and answered to the summons by announcing his presence.

“Has the boat returned?”

The reply was in the affirmative.

“And has she been successful?”

“The General is in his room, sir, and can give you an answer better than I.”

“Then, let the General appear, and report the result of his campaign.”

Wilder was by far too deeply interested, to break the sudden reverie into which his companion had now evidently fallen, even by breathing as loud as usual.  The boy descended through the hatch like a serpent gliding into his hole, or, rather, a fox darting into his burrow, and then a profound stillness reigned in the cabin.  The Commander of the ship leaned his head on his hand, appearing utterly unconscious of the presence of any stranger.  The silence might have been of much longer duration, had it not been interrupted by the appearance of a third person.  A straight, rigid form slowly elevated itself through the little hatchway, very much in the manner that theatrical spectres are seen to make their appearance on the stage, until about half of the person was visible, when it ceased to rise, and turned its disciplined countenance on the Captain.

“I wait for orders,” said a mumbling voice, which issued from lips that were hardly perceived to move.