Goin' to Sunda Straits, which p'raps you know, sar, is nigh a hundred miles fro' here." "And what may you be going to do there ?" asked Nigel.
"Goin' home to Krakatoa." "Why, I thought that was an uninhabited island.

I passed close to it on my way here, and saw no sign of inhabitants." "Da's cause I was absint fro' home.

An' massa he keeps indoors a good deal." "And pray who is massa ?" asked Nigel.
"Sar," said the negro, drawing up his square sturdy frame with a look of dignity; "fair-play is eberyt'ing wid me.

You've ax me a heap o' questions.

Now's my--turn.