As he turned to go, however, curiosity
compelled me to question him, his good-natured face provocative of
courage.
"Say, George, what boat is this?"
"Mah name is Louis, sah."
"All right, Louis, then; what's the name of this vessel?"
"She am de _Sea Gull_, an' a mighty fin' boat, sah."
"So I judge; what is she, fruiter, or private yacht?"
"I reckon I don't just know," and he grinned.
"Perhaps then you will inform me where we are bound--I suppose you know
that?"
"No, sah; de captain he nebber done tol' me, sah, nothing 'bout his
personal plans. All he done said wus fer me to hustle sum grub in
yere."
"But surely," I Insisted warmly, "you know what voyage you signed on
for?"
"Wal, boss, I did n't sign on fer no vige. I 'se de steward, sah, an'
I just naturally goes 'long where ebber de ship does. 'T ain't rightly
none o' my business what de white folks 'cides to do. Good Lor', dey
don't never ask dis nigger nuthin' 'bout dat. All I got ter do is just
go 'long with 'em--dat's all."
The shadow of a man blocked the doorway. He was one of those who had
been in the small boat, and I noticed a revolver at his waist.
"That's enough, boy. Come, now, out with you," he commanded gruffly.
"Never you mind the door; I 'll attend to that.
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