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Tim regarded him with a prolonged stare, but for some time said nothing. At last he emitted several strong puffs of smoke, and said "Young man, did you ever see your own mind?" "No, in course not." "Did anybody else ever see it?" "Cer'nly not." "Then of course you don't believe in it!" added Rokens, while a slight smile curled his upper lip.
Tim Rokens received his blunt nose on the point of his lance, and drove him back with mingled fury and terror. Another advance was made, and a successful lance-thrust delivered. "That's into his life," cried the captain. "So it is," replied Rokens. And so it was. A vital part had been struck.
It stood in the full blaze of the centre fire, and commanded a view of all that was going on in every part of the little camp; and when Ailie lay down on it after a good supper, and was covered up with a blanket, and further covered over with a sort of gauze netting to protect her from the mosquitoes, which were very numerous when all this was done, we say, and when, in addition to this, she lay and witnessed the jovial laughter and enjoyment of His Majesty King Bumble, as he sat at the big fire smoking his pipe, and the supreme happiness of Phil Briant, and the placid joy of Tim Rokens, and the exuberant delight of Glynn, and the semi-scientific enjoyment of Dr Hopley as he examined a collection of rare plants; and the quiet comfort of the trader, and the awkward, shambling, loose-jointed pleasure of long Jim Scroggles; and the beaming felicity of her own dear father; who sat not far from her, and turned occasionally in the midst of the conversation to give her a nod she felt in her heart that then and there she had fairly reached the very happiest moment in all her life.
Thus admonished, Rokens issued forth, and dashed across the open space that separated the hut from the low ledge of coral rock behind which the keel of the intended boat and its planking were sheltered. A very few minutes sufficed to show Tim that all was fast, and to enable him to place a few additional pieces of rock above the heap in order to keep it down.
From all parts of the forest to which they had wandered, the party came, dropping in one by one to congratulate the lost and found pair. Last of all came Captain Dunning and Tim Rokens, for the harpooner had vowed he would "stick to the cap'n through thick and thin." Tim kept his word faithfully.
The whole party, who were ignorant of the man's profession, started at this remark, and looked at the dealer in surprise. "Wot!" exclaimed Tim Rokens, withdrawing his pipe from his lips; "do you sell niggers?" "Yees, to be surely," replied the man, with a peculiarly saturnine smile. "A slave-dealer?" exclaimed Briant, clenching his fists. "Even so, sare."
And that's 'ow it was; and I lost a suit o' clo's, for nothing on 'arth would take the oil out, and I didn't need to use pomatum for six months after." "No more you did," cried Rokens, who had listened to the narrative with suppressed delight; "no more you did.
"Well, Nippi-Boo-Tumble," cried Tim Rokens, who in his disappointment unceremoniously contracted his name, "it's my opinion private opinion, mark'ee that you're a ass, an' you'll come for to repent of it." "Troth, Nippi-Bumble, he's about right," added Briant coaxingly. "Come now, avic, wot's the raisin ye won't go?
"My flippers, cap'en," said Rokens, thrusting out his hard, thick, enormous hands, which were stained all over with sundry streaks of tar, and were very red as well as extremely clumsy to look at "I've bin an' washed 'em with hot water and rubbed 'em with grease till I a'most took the skin off, but they won't come clean, and I'm not fit to sit down with ladies."
"No," answered Rokens, laying his arms on the bulwarks, and looking down at his questioner with a sly leer; "no, we ha'n't, but you've got a madman aboord that boat." "Who's that?" inquired the warder, who did not at first understand the sarcasm.
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