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Updated: May 4, 2025
"Well, you may be right after all," returned the Moor slowly. "I will go and see this father. At all events it can do no harm." "None whateber, massa. An' I better run back and send Ali arter you." "Why? What has he to do with it?" "Oh! I only t'ought dat you was huntin' togidder. It's ob no consikence.
You two had better stop here and look on." "No, massa," said the negro, firmly, "I go wid you. If you is to die, we die togidder!" "What are you thinking of, Hockins?" asked the youth, observing that the seaman stood staring at the ground with knitted brows, as if in deep thought. "I'll go with you too," he replied, drawing his cutlass and feeling its point with his finger. "You may need help.
"You may say it where you is, for dis yar gen'lem'n is a frind ob mine, an' a hofficer in the Bri'sh navy, an' a most 'tickler friend of Hester Sommers, so we all frinds togidder." "You'll excuse me, sir," said the seaman, touching his forelock, "but you don't look much like a' officer in your present costoom. Well, then, here's wot I've got to say "
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