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has just awakened, and says he is very much better, and so peckish. What does he mean by that?”

“Peckish, my dear, is hungry,” explained Robin, as they went into the cave together.

They found that Johnson was not only peckish but curious, and thirsting for information as well as meat and drink. As his pulse was pronounced by Dr Shipton to be all right, he was gratified with a hearty supper, a long pull at the tankard of sparkling water, and a good deal of information and small-talk about the pirates, the wreck of the Triton, and the science of electricity.

“But you have not told us yet,” said Sam, “how it was that you came to fail into the hands of the pirates.”

“I can soon tell ’ee that,” said the seaman, turning slowly on his couch.

“Lie still, now, you must not move,” said Sam, remonstratively.

“But that not movin’, doctor, is wuss than downright pain, by a long way. Hows’ever, I s’pose I must obey orders—anyhow you’ve got the whip hand o’ me just now. Well, as I was sayin’, the yarn ain’t a long ’un. I sailed from the port o’ Lun’on in a tea-clipper, of which I was the cook; got out to Hong-Kong all right, shipped a cargo, and off again for old England. We hadn’t got far when a most horrible gale blew us far out of our course. When it fell calm, soon arter, we was boarded by a pirate. Our captain fought like a hero, but it warn’t of no use. They was too many for us; most of my shipmates was killed, and I was knocked flat on the deck from behind with a hand-spike. On recoverin’, I found myself in the ship’s hold, bound hand and futt, among a lot of unfortunits like myself, most of ’em bein’ Chinese and Malays. The reptiles untied my hands and set me to an oar. They thrashed us all unmercifully to make us work hard, and killed the weak ones to be rid of ’em. At last we came to an anchor, as I knew by the rattlin’ o’ the cables, though, bein’ below, I couldn’t see where we was. Then I heard the boats got out, an’ all the crew went ashore, as I guessed, except the guard left to watch us.

“That night I dreamed a deal about bein’ free, an’ about former voyages—specially one when I was wrecked in the Atlantic, an’ our good ship, the Seahorse, went down in latitude—”

“The Seahorse!” echoed Robin, with an earnest look at the sailor; “was she an emigrant ship?”

“Ay, that’s just what she was.”

“Was she lost in the year 1850?” continued Robin, with increasing excitement.

“Jus’ so, my lad.”

“And you were cook?”

“You’ve hit the nail fair on the head,” replied the sailor, with a look of surprise.

“Well, now, that is most remarkable,” said Robin, “for I was born on board of that very ship.”

“You don’t mean it,” said Johnson, looking eagerly at our hero. “Was you really the babby as was born to that poor miserable sea-sick gentleman, Mr Wright—you’ll excuse my sayin’ so—in the middle of a thunder-clap an’ a flash o’ lightnin’ as would have split our main-mast an’ sent us to the bottom, along wi’ the ship, if it hadn’t bin for the noo lightnin’ conductor that Mr Harris, the inventor, indooced our skipper to put up!”

“Yes, I am that very baby,” said Robin, “and although, of course, I remember nothing about the thunder and lightning, or anything else. My father and mother have often told me all about it, and the wonderful deliverance which God mercifully sent when all hope had been given up. And many a time did they speak of you, Johnson, as a right good fellow and a splendid cook.”

“Much obleedged to ’em,” said Johnson, “an’ are they both alive?”

“They were both alive and well when I left England.”

“Come now, this is pleasant, to meet an old shipmate in such pecooliar circumstances,” said the sailor, extending his hand, which Robin shook warmly; “quite as good as a play, ain’t it?”

“Ay,” observed Jim Slagg, who with the others had witnessed this meeting with deep interest, “an’ the babby has kep’ the lighten’ goin’ ever since, though he’s dropped the thunder, for he’s an electrician no less—a manufacturer of lightnin’ an’ a director of it too.”

The sailor wass good deal puzzled by this remark, but when its purport was explained to him, he gave vent to a vigorous chuckle, notwithstanding Sam’s stern order to “lie still.”

“Didn’t I say so?” he exclaimed. “Didn’t I say distinctly, that night, to the stooard—Thomson was his name—‘Stooard,’ said I, ‘that there babby what has just bin born will make his mark some’ow an’ somew’eres.’”

“Well, but I have not made my mark yet,” said Robin, laughing, “so you’re not a true prophet, at least time has not yet proved your title.”

“Not yet proved it!” cried Johnson with vehemence, “why, how much proof do you want? Here you are, not much more than a babby yet—any’ow hardly a man—and, besides havin’ bin born in thunder, lightnin’, wind, an’ rain, you’ve laid the Atlantic Cable, you’ve took up lightnin’ as a profession—or a plaything,—you’ve helped to save the life of John Johnson, an’ you’ve got comfortably located in a pirate’s island! If you on’y go on as you’ve begun, you’ll make your mark so deep that it’ll never be rubbed out to the end of time. A prophet, indeed! Why, I’m shuperior to Mahomet, an’ beat Nebuchadnezzar all to sticks.”

“But you haven’t finished your story, Johnson,” said Jim Slagg.

“That’s true—where was I? Ah, dreamin’ in the hold of the pirate-ship. Well, I woke up with a start all of a suddent, bent on doin’ suthin’, I scarce knew what, but I wriggled away at the rope that bound me till I got my hands free; then I freed my legs; then I loosed some o’ the boldest fellows among the slaves, and got handspikes and bits o’ wood to arm ’em with. They was clever enough to understand signs, an’ I couldn’t speak to ’em, not knowin’ their lingo, but I signed to ’em to keep quiet as mice. Then I crep’ to the powder-magazine, which the reckless reptiles fastened very carelessly, and got a bit paper and made a slow match by rubbin’ some wet powder on it, and laid it all handy, for I was determined to escape and put an end to their doin’s all at once. My plan was to attack and overpower the guard, free and arm all the slaves, blow up the ship, escape on shore, an’ have a pitched battle with the pirate crew. Unfortunately there was a white-livered traitor among us—a sort o’ half-an’-half slave—very likely he was a spy. Anyhow, when he saw what I was about, he slipped over the side and swam quietly ashore. Why he didn’t alarm the guards I don’t know—p’r’aps he thought we might be too many for ’em, and that if we conquered he stood but a small chance. Anyhow he escaped the sharks, and warned the crew in good time, for we was in the very middle of the scrimmage when they suddintly turned up, as you saw, an’ got the better of us. Hows’ever I managed to bolt below and fire the slow match, before they saw what I was after. Then I turned and fought my way on deck again, so that they didn’t find out. And when they was about to throw me overboard, the thought of the surprise in store for ’em indooced me to give vent to a hearty cheer. It warn’t a right state o’ mind, I confess, and I was properly punished, for, instead o’ killin’ me off quick an’ comfortable, they tied me hand and futt, took me below, an’ laid me not two yards from the slowly burnin’ match. I felt raither unhappy, I assure you; an’ the reptiles never noticed the match because o’ the smoke o’ the scrimmage. I do believe it was being so near it as saved me, for when the crash came, I was lifted bodily wi’ the planks on which I lay, and, comin’ down from the sky, as it appeared to me, I went clean into the sea without damage, except the breakin’ o’ one o’ the ropes, which, fortunately, set my right arm free.”

“Come now, Johnson, you must go to sleep after that,” said Sam. “You’re exciting yourself too much; remember that I am your doctor, and obedience is the first law of nature—when one is out of health.”

“Very good, sir,” returned the seaman; “but before I turn over Mr Wright must read me a few verses out o’ that bible his mother gave him.”

“Why, how do you know that my mother gave me a bible?” asked Robin in great surprise.

“Didn’t I know your mother?” replied the sailor with a flush of enthusiasm; “an’ don’t I know that she would sooner have let you go to sea without her blessing than without the Word of God? She was the first human bein’ as ever spoke to me about my miserable soul, and the love of God in sendin’ His Son to save it. Many a one has asked me about my health, and warned me to fly from drink, and offered to help me on in life, but she was the first that ever asked after my soul, or tried to impress on me that Eternity and its affairs were of more importance than Time. I didn’t say much at the time, but the seed that your mother planted nigh twenty years ago has bin watered, thank God an’ kep’ alive ever since.”

There was a tone of seriousness and gratitude in this off-hand seaman’s manner, while speaking of his mother, which touched Robin deeply. Without a moment’s hesitation he pulled out his bible and read a chapter in the Gospel of John.

“Now you’ll pray,” said the sailor, to Robin’s surprise and embarrassment, for he had never prayed in public before, though accustomed from a child to make known his wants to God night and morning.

But our hero was morally as well as physically courageous—as every hero should be! He knelt at once by the sailor’s couch, while the others followed his example, and, in a few simple sentences, asked for pardon, blessing, help, and guidance in the name of Jesus Christ.

Thus peculiarly was bible-reading and family worship established on the pirates’ island in the year eighteen hundred and sixty-eight.

Chapter Nineteen. An Exploration and an Accident.

For the first few days of their stay on what they styled Pirate Island, our castaways were too much taken up with the wondrous and varied contents of the robbers’ cave, and the information Meerta and Letta had to give, to pay much regard to the island itself, or the prospect they had of quitting it. But when their interest and curiosity began to abate, and the excitement to decrease, they naturally bethought them of the nature and resources of their now home.

Of course they did not for a moment regard it in the light of home. It was merely a resting-place,—a refuge, where, after their escape from the sea, they should spend a few weeks, perhaps months, until a passing vessel should take them off. They did not know, at that time, that the islet was far removed from the usual track of ships, and that, like the Pitcairn Islanders, they might be doomed to spend many years, perchance a lifetime, on it. Indeed, a considerable time elapsed before they would admit to themselves that there was a possibility of such a fate, although they knew, both from Meerta and Letta, that no ship of any kind, save that of the pirates, had been seen for the last eighteen months, and the few sails that did chance to appear, were merely seen for a few hours like sea-gulls on the horizon, from which they arose and into which they vanished.

Having then, as

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