Even when her
companions sometimes hesitated from actual hunger or fatigue and forgot
their guilty part, she never faltered. It was her real existence; her
other life of being washed, dressed, and put to bed at certain hours by
her mother was the ILLUSION.
Doubt and skepticism came at last,--and came from Wan Lee! Wan Lee of
all creatures! Wan Lee, whose silent, stolid, mechanical performance of
a pirate's duties--a perfect imitation like all his household work--had
been their one delight and fascination!
It was just after the exciting capture of a merchantman, with the
indiscriminate slaughter of all on board,--a spectacle on which the
round blue eyes of the plump Polly had gazed with royal and maternal
tolerance,--and they were burying the booty, two tablespoons and a
thimble, in the corner of the closet, when Wan Lee stolidly rose.
"Melican boy pleenty foolee! Melican boy no Pilat!" said the little
Chinaman, substituting "l's" for "r's" after his usual fashion.
"Wotcher say?" said Hickory, reddening with sudden confusion.
"Melican boy's papa heap lickee him--s'pose him leal Pilat," continued
Wan Lee doggedly.
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