The man who was standing before Surajah was broader and taller than
those around him. The sun had darkened his face, until its shade
approached those of his companions, and yet there was no mistaking the
fact that he was a European. A heavy moustache and beard, streaked
with grey, concealed the lower part of his face. Dick dared not gaze
on the man too earnestly, and could see no likeness to the picture on
the wall at Shadwell; but, allowing for the effects of hardship and
suffering, he judged him to be about the age of his father.
The man was evidently on good terms with the soldiers, one or two of
whom were chaffing him on his purchase.
"Will nothing but the best tobacco satisfy you?" one laughed.
"Nothing; and even that won't really satisfy me. This stuff is good
enough, when rolled up, for cigars, and it does well enough in
hookahs; but I would give all this pound for a couple of pipes of
pigtail, which is the tobacco we smoked at sea."
Again Dick's heart beat rapidly. This man must have been a sailor. He
could not restrain himself from speaking.
"Have you been a sailor, then?" he asked.
"Ay, I was a sailor, though it is many years ago, now, since I saw the
sea.
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