spoken to him, but had noticed he never interfered with me or my chair, so that I had no occasion to come down on him. He, in fact, spoke only to the Captain and ignored every one else.
Imagine, then, my surprise when here at Macassar he suddenly walked up to me on deck, and tapping me on the breast began speaking. I am quite unable to reproduce his English or what he said properly, but it was something like this;
“Look here, sir, you English gentleman, I poor old Malay sailor man. I see you here every day. I no speak to you—but I know you. Now I want speak to you. I poor old Malay sailor man, but I know you and I like you. Now here to-day come one man and he say to me, ‘ Here, you old Malay, you take these things under your clothes, and smuggle them for me, and I give you two shillings.” What I do that for? I old sailor man, but I honest man, I proud man. I no do that. I no do what not honest—no, never in my life. Why that man him dare come insult me because I poor old Malay sailor man?” Here another tap on the breast. “I come tell you that; you never do that. I know you, you real gentleman, and I old sailor man not one bit afraid to come and speak to you—I know, I proud man too! I know you proud man; I see you not able to do like that. What you tell me say to that one dam dishonest man?”
You might have knocked me down with the proverbial feather, I was so surprised at this outburst.
“Take absolutely no notice of him,” I said, when I recovered my breath, which this onslaught had utterly deprived me of. “‘ He is not worth it.”
““I know you say just what is right,” he said. “I old sailor man, but I like you and I know you.”
