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“Billy,” said Facey, “they are going to make judge and jury for you by and by; and I am to talky-talky for you.”

“All same Queensland,” returned Billy. “May the Lord have mercy on your sinful soul!”

Facey was stupefied. “Where in thunder did you learn that?” he demanded.

“Oh, me savvy too much,” said Billy.

“Now, see here,” said the lieutenant. “You didn’t kill that trader?”

“Yes, I kill him,” said Billy, cheerfully.

“You did?” cried the other.

“White fellow no good; I kill him,” said the prisoner.

“If you tell that to the captain he’ll shoot you,” said Facey. If the prisoner was to be defended he was going to give him all the help he could.

The black boy looked distressed and nodded a forlorn assent.

“You’ll be a big fool to say that,” said Facey.

“White fellow no good; I kill him,” repeated Billy.

“You unmitigated idiot, you’ll do for yourself,” cried the lieutenant, angrily. “What’s the good of my talking for you if you can’t stand up for yourself?”

Billy began to whimper; the other’s loud voice and threatening demeanour seemed to overwhelm him.