PART THREE: My Shore Adventure
Chapter 15: The Man of the Island
(continued)
"Well, Jim, three years have I been here, and not a bite
of Christian diet from that day to this. But now, you
look here; look at me. Do I look like a man before the
mast? No, says you. Nor I weren't, neither, I says."
And with that he winked and pinched me hard.
"Just you mention them words to your squire, Jim," he went
on. "Nor he weren't, neither--that's the words. Three
years he were the man of this island, light and dark, fair
and rain; and sometimes he would maybe think upon a prayer
(says you), and sometimes he would maybe think of his old
mother, so be as she's alive (you'll say); but the most
part of Gunn's time (this is what you'll say)--the most
part of his time was took up with another matter. And
then you'll give him a nip, like I do."
And he pinched me again in the most confidential manner.
"Then," he continued, "then you'll up, and you'll say
this: Gunn is a good man (you'll say), and he puts a
precious sight more confidence--a precious sight, mind
that--in a gen'leman born than in these gen'leman of
fortune, having been one hisself."
"Well," I said, "I don't understand one word that
you've been saying. But that's neither here nor there;
for how am I to get on board?"
"Ah," said he, "that's the hitch, for sure. Well,
there's my boat, that I made with my two hands. I keep
her under the white rock. If the worst come to the
worst, we might try that after dark. Hi!" he broke
out. "What's that?"
For just then, although the sun had still an hour or
two to run, all the echoes of the island awoke and
bellowed to the thunder of a cannon.
"They have begun to fight!" I cried. "Follow me."
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