I hesitated, yet only long enough to leave the impression I sought to make on them both.

“Likely thar ain’t no sailor but whut has heerd o’ him,” I said slowly.  “Enyhow, I sure have.  I can’t say thet I have any special hankerin’ after bein’ a pirate, an’ I never aimed ter be one; but, seem’ as how I am yere on this bark, an’ can’t easy get away, it don’t look like thar wus much choice, does it?”

LeVere appeared amused in his way, which was not a pleasant one.

“Oh, yes, friend, there is choice enough.  Bill, here, had exactly the same choice when he first came—­hey, Bill?  Remember how you signed on, after we took you off the Albatross?  This is how it stands, Gates—­either go forrard quietly yerself, er the both of us will kick you there.  We never give an order twice on the Namur.  That will be enough talk.  If you do your work, all right; and if you don’t, then look out, my man—­there will be plenty of hell waiting for you.  Go on, now.”

It was a curt dismissal, coupled with a plain threat, easy to understand.  I obeyed the order gladly enough, slinking away into the black shadows forward, realizing my good fortune, and seeking some spot where I could be alone.  The result was all that I could have hoped for; my position on board was assured; my story had been accepted without awakening the slightest suspicion; and it was perfectly clear that no one on board the Namur possessed the slightest memory of the personal appearance of the poor fellow who had been thrown overboard, and drowned.  Even Haines believed me to be the man.  Of course I should be watched to some extent for a few days, my willingness to serve noted, and my ability as a seaman put to the test; but in this I had nothing to fear.  I could play the assumed character with little danger of any mishap.  The only remaining peril of discovery would come with the return of the absent boat, and the necessity of my encountering the giant negro.  Yet I was convinced even this would not prove serious.  If Cochose had glimpsed my features at all during the course of our desperate struggle on the deck of the sloop, the impression made on his mind must have been merely momentary; and, besides, he would never once conceive it possible that the same man could have reached the bark ahead of his return.  Even if such a suspicion dawned, I was now in a position to positively establish my arrival aboard the Namur early the evening previous, and before their expedition had departed.

I felt so safe, and so content with my success thus far, as to already believe thoroughly in the final result of my mission.  This confidence developed almost into sheer recklessness.  There were some difficulties ahead, to be sure.  I remained sane enough to recognize these, yet I had already conquered easily, what at first had appeared insurmountable, and, in consequence of this good luck, these others yet to be met, seemed far less serious.  The same