"
"Ay," said a man with a deep scar over his right eye, "Dick's new to
the work. But if the captain takes us for a cargo o' sandal-wood to the
Feejees, he'll get a taste o' these black gentry in their native
condition. For my part, I don't know and I don't care what the Gospel
does to them, but I know that when any o' the islands chance to get it,
trade goes all smooth and easy; but where they ha'nt got it, Beelzebub
himself could hardly desire better company."
"Well, you ought to be a good judge," cried another, laughing, "for
you've never kept any company but the worst all your life!"
"Ralph Rover!" shouted a voice down the hatchway, "captain wants you,
aft."
Springing up the ladder, I hastened to the cabin, pondering as I went
the strange testimony borne by these men to the effect of the Gospel on
savage natures--testimony which, as it was perfectly disinterested, I
had no doubt whatever was strictly true.
On coming again on deck, I found Bloody Bill at the helm, and as we
were alone together, I tried to draw him into conversation. After
repeating to him the conversation in the forecastle about the
missionaries, I said--
"Tell me, Bill, is this schooner really a trader in sandal-wood?"
"Yes, Ralph, she is; but she's just as really a pirate. The black flag
you saw flying at the peak was no deception."
"Then how can you say she's a trader?" asked I.
"Why, as to that, she trades when she can't take by force; but she
takes by force when she can, in preference.
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