At his heels came that scampering mass of ragged door-mat Toozle, who, feeling that a sensation of some kind or other was being got up for his amusement, joined heartily in the shout of delight that burst from the youthful Corrie when he beheld the extraordinary figure in the fireplace.
Well, I say, Kickup, cried the youth, picking up his hat, which had fallen off in the convulsion, and drying his tears, youre a sweet lookin creetur, you are! Is this a new frock youve got to go to church with? Come, I rather like that pattern, but theres not quite enough of em. Suppose I lend a hand and print a few more all over you. Theres plenty of pots and pans here to do it; and if Alice will bring down her white frock Ill give it a touch up too.
How can you talk such nonsense, Corrie! said Alice, laughing. Down, Toozle; silence, sir. Go, my dear Poopy, and put on another frock, and make haste, for Ive something to say to you.
Thus admonished, the girl ran to a small apartment that opened off the kitchen, and speedily reappeared in another tunic. Meanwhile, Corrie had seated himself on the floor, with Toozle between his knees and Alice on a stool at his side. Poopy, in a fit of absence of mind, was about to resume her seat on the iron pot, when a simultaneous shriek, bark, and roar, recalled her scattered faculties, produced a hee! hee! varied with a faint ho! and induced her to sit down on the floor beside her mistress.
Now, tell me, Poopy, said Alice, did you ever hear of friends who were not really friends, but enemies?
The girl stared with a vacant countenance at the bright intelligent face of the child, and shook her head slowly.
Why dont you ask me? inquired Corrie. You might as well ask Toozle as that potato Kickup. Eh? Puppy, dont you confess that you are no better than a vegetable? Come, now, be honest.
Hee! hee! replied Poopy.
Humph! I thought so. But thats an odd question of yours, Alice. What do you mean by it?
I mean that my papa thinks there are friends in the settlement who are enemies.
Does he, though? Now, thats mysterious, said the boy, becoming suddenly grave. That requires to be looked to. Come, Alice, tell me all the particulars. Dont omit anythingour lives may depend on it.
The deeply serious manner in which Corrie said this, so impressed and solemnised the child, that she related, word for word, the brief conversation she had had with her father, and all that she had heard of the previous converse between him and Henry.
When she had concluded, Master Corrie threw a still more grave and profoundly philosophical expression into his chubby face, and asked, in a hollow tone of voice, Your father didnt say anything against the Grampus, did he?
The what? inquired Alice.
The Grampusthe man, at least, whom I call the Grampus, and who calls hisself Jo Bumpus.
I did not hear such names mentioned, but Henry spoke of a wounded nigger.
Ay, theyre all a set of false rascals together, said Corrie.
Niggers ob dis here settlement is good mans, ebery von, said Poopy, promptly.
Hallo! Kickup, wots wrong? I never heard ye say so much at one time since I came to this place.
Niggers is good peepils, reiterated the girl.
So they are, Puppy, and youre the best of em; but I was speakin of the fellers on the other side of the island, dye see?
Hee! hee! ejaculated the girl.
Well, but what makes you so anxious? said Alice, looking earnestly into the boys face.
Corrie laid his hand on her head and stroked her fair hair as he replied
This is a serious matter, Alice; I must go at once and see your father about it.
He rose with an air of importance, as if about to leave the kitchen.
Oh! but please dont go till you have told me what it is; Im so frightened, said Alice; do stay and tell me about it before you go to papa.
Well, I dont mind if I do, said the boy, sitting down again. You must know, then, that its reported there are pirates on the island.
Oh! exclaimed Alice.
Dye know what pirates are, Puppy?
Hee! hee! answered the girl.
I do believe she dont know nothin, said the boy, looking at her with an air of compassion wot a sad thing it is to belong to a lower species of human natur! Well, I spose it cant be helped. A pirate, Kickup, is a sea-robber. Dye understand?
Ho! ho!
Ay, I thought so. Well, Alice, I am told that theres been a lot o them landed on the island and took to chasin and killin the niggers, and Henry was all but killed by one o the niggers this very morning, an was saved by a big feller thats a mystery to me, and by the Grampus, who is the best feller I ever meta regular trump he is; and theres all sorts o doubts, and fears, and rumours, and things of that sort, with a captain of the British navy, that you and I have read so much about, trying to find this pirate out, and suspectin everybody he meets is him. I only hope he wont take it into his stupid head to mistake me for himnot so unlikely a thing after all. And the youthful Corrie shook his head with much gravity, as he surveyed his rotund little legs complacently.
What are you laughing at? he added, suddenly, on observing that a bright smile had overspread Alices face.
At the idea of you being taken for a pirate, said the child.
Hee! hee! ho! ho! remarked Poopy.
Silence, you lump of black putty! thundered the aspiring youth.
Come, dont be cross to my maid, said Alice, quickly.
Corrie laughed, and was about to continue his discourse on the events and rumours of the day, when Mr Masons voice was heard the other end of the house.
Ho! Corrie.
Thats me, cried the boy, promptly springing up and rushing out of the room.
Here, my boy, I thought I heard your voice. I want you to go a message for me. Run down, like a good lad, to Ole Thorwald and tell him to come up here as soon as he conveniently can. There are matters to consult about which will not brook delay.
Ay, ay, sir, answered Corrie, sailor fashion, as he touched his forelock and bounded from the room.
Off on pressing business, cried the sanguine youth, as he dashed through the kitchen, frightening Alice, and throwing Toozle into convulsions of delighthorribly important business that wont brook delay; but what brook means is more than I can guess.
Before the sentence was finished, Corrie was far down the hill, leaping over every obstacle like a deer. On passing through a small field he observed a native bending down, as if picking weeds, with his back towards him. Going softly up behind, he hit the semi-naked savage a sounding slap, and exclaimed, as he passed on, Hallo! Jackolu, important business, my boyhurrah!
The native to whom this rough salutation was given, was a tall stalwart young fellow who had for some years been one of the best behaved and most active members of Frederick Masons dark-skinned congregation. He stood erect for some time, with a broad grin on his swarthy face, and a twinkle in his eye, as he gazed after the young hopeful, muttering to himself, Ho! yesbery wicked boy dat, bery; but hims capital chap for all dat.
A few minutes later, Master Corrie burst in upon the sturdy middle-aged merchant, named Ole Thorwald, a Norwegian who had resided much in England, and spoke the English language well, and who prided himself on being entitled to claim descent from the old Norwegian sea-kings. This man was uncle and protector to Corrie.