You should be called Juan Colorado, for your hair of red gold." The boy looked up quickly, his cheek flushing; he did not like to be laughed at; but the Skipper's face was perfectly grave, and only courtesy and hospitality shone from his dark eyes.
"I wonder what the schooner's name is!" John said, presently, speaking low, and addressing his remarks apparently to the mast, which he kicked gently with his foot.
"The schooner is the 'Nautilus,' young gentleman!" The reply came from the Skipper, not from the mast, yet it was still to the latter that the boy made his next observation.
"I wonder where she comes from, and where she is going, and what she is going to do here!" And having delivered himself breathlessly of these remarks, the boy John wished he could squeeze through a port-hole, or melt away into foam, or get away somehow, anyhow.
But now he felt himself lifted in strong arms, and set on the rail of the vessel, with his eyes just opposite those of the Skipper, so that he could not look up without meeting them; and on so looking up, it became evident immediately that this was the kindest man in the world, and that he liked boys, and that, finally, there was nothing to be afraid of.

On which John heaved a mighty sigh of relief, and then smiled, and then laughed.
"I like to know things!" he said, simply.
"Me, too," replied the Skipper.

"I also like to know things.

How else shall we become wise, Juan Colorado?
Now listen, and you shall hear.
This schooner is the 'Nautilus,' as I say, and she is a Spanish schooner.

Yes;" (in reply to the question in the boy's eyes,) "I am partly a Spanish man, but not all.