During the progress of supper, which consisted of cold dried meat and
rice, the quartette seated on the ferns in the corner of the cave were
unusually silent. Mark Breezy and Ravonino continued to eat for some
time without speaking a word. Ebony, although earnestly absorbed in
victuals, rolled his eyes about as he looked from time to time at his
companions with unwonted solemnity, and John Hockins frowned at his
food, and shook his shaggy head with an air of dissatisfied perplexity.
"Ravonino," at length said the last, looking up, and using his grass
pocket-handkerchief, "it seems to me, bein' a plain straight-for'ard
sort o' seaman, that there's somethin' not exactly fair an' above-board
in all them proceedin's. Of course it's not for me to say what a
independent man should do or say; but don't you think that w'en a man
like you professes to be honest, an' asks other men to trust him, he
should at least explain _some_ o' the riddles that surround him? I'm a
loyal man myself, an' I'll stand up for _my_ Queen an' country, no
matter what may be the circumstances in w'ich I'm placed; so that w'en I
sees another man admittin' that he's a outlaw, an' finds the soldiers of
_his_ Queen a-huntin' all about the country arter him and his comrades--
seems to me there's a screw loose somewheres."
"Dat's _my_ sent'ments zactly," said the negro, with a decisive nod.
Mark took no notice of this speech, but silently continued his supper.
For a few moments the guide did not speak or look up. Then, laying down
his knife and clasping his hands over one of his knees, he looked
earnestly into the seaman's face.
"You tell me you are loyal," he said.
Hockins nodded.
"If your queen," continued Ravonino, "were to tell you to give up the
service of God and worship idols, would you do it?"
"Cer'nly not," replied the seaman, promptly, "for she has no right to
rule over my soul. My duty to the King of Kings stands before my duty
to the Queen of England."