Mass' George Part 19

"Yes, sir; you have come on board to buy slaves, I suppose, with the rest of us?"

"I deny it," said my father, flas.h.i.+ng out, as he drew himself up. "I came on board, too late it seems, to try and prevail upon my brother emigrants--English gentlemen of birth and position--to discountenance this hateful traffic in the bodies of our fellow-creatures."

"We must have men to work if our colony is to succeed, Captain Bruton."

"Oh!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed my father, and then in a low voice, as his eyes rested on the group of poor black wretches huddled together, I heard him say, "It is monstrous!"

At that moment a couple of sailors began to haul at the rope run through the block; it tightened, and with a cheery "Yo-ho!" they ran up what seemed to be the dead body of a big negro, whose head and arms hung down inert as he was hoisted on high; the spar to which the block was fastened swung round, the rope slackened, and the poor wretch plumped down on the deck, to lie motionless all of a heap.

"Not in very good fettle," said the slave captain, curtly; "but he'll come round."

The rope was cast loose from the negro's chest, lowered down again, and I gazed from the poor wretch lying half or quite dead on the deck, to my father, and back again, noting that he was very pale, biting his lower lip, and frowning in a way that I knew of old meant a storm.

"Now then, up with him!" shouted the captain.

"Ay, ay, but look out, or he'll be overboard. He's lively as an eel,"

came from below.

"Right!" said the captain; and he took up a small line and held it ready in both hands.

The rope tightened; there was a cheery "Yo-ho!" and up came a black, impish-looking boy of about my own age, kicking, struggling, and tearing at the rope round his chest.

But it was all in vain; he was swung round, held suspended with his feet just clear of the deck, and his wrists were caught in a loop of the line bound together, his ankles were served the same, and the lad was dropped on the deck to lie writhing like some wild animal, showing his teeth, and watching us all in turn with his rolling eyes.

"Come," said the slave captain, laughingly turning to Colonel Preston; "he's lively enough to make up for the other. Better have 'em. I'll throw them in for next to nothing."

"No," said our neighbour, coldly. "That man is dying, and the boy would be of no use to me."

"The man is not dying," said the slave captain roughly, "but he soon will be if you don't have him. As for this shaver, he's about as near being an imp as we can find. Keep away, my lad, or he may bite you."

This was to me, as I approached the boy, who showed his teeth at me like a vicious dog.

"Going to have 'em, colonel?"

"No; once more, no," said the colonel, sternly. "I am only waiting for my boat."

"All right, sir, I don't go begging. What do you say?" he continued, turning to my father. "Will you buy those two?"

"I?" cried my father, angrily; "buy my fellow-creatures for slaves?"

"Oh, no, of course not," said the slave captain. And then to himself, but I heard him, "Too good a man, I suppose.--Sorry you won't have 'em, colonel.--Heave 'em down."

The men on deck advanced to the insensible negro, and were in the act of stooping to pa.s.s the rope once more about his chest, when my father, who could bear the scene no longer, said quietly--

"Do you not see that man is dying?"

"Yes, sir. Altered your mind? You can have the two a bargain."

"Bah!" exclaimed my father, fiercely. "Man, have you no heart, no feeling?"

"Not that I know of, sir. This trade would take it out of any one."

"But the poor creature's lips are dried up. He wants water."

"He'll have plenty to-night, sir," said the slave captain, with a laugh.

"Down with him, my lads."

"Ay, ay, sir," said the men; the rope was pa.s.sed round the negro, and the men seized the end to haul.

"I can't bear it," I heard my father say in a whisper; and then aloud--"Stop!"

"Eh? What for?"

"I will buy the man," said my father.

"And the boy?"

"N--"

"Yes, yes," I shouted, excitedly.

My father turned upon me with an angry look, but he seemed to read mine, and his face changed.

"Yes," he said, quietly.

"Right, and a good riddance," said the captain, laughing, as he held out his hand for the money my father began to count out. "I don't mind telling you now, sir; if you hadn't bought him, he'd have been dead enough to-night; but you get him ash.o.r.e and take care of him, and he'll come round--he will indeed; I'm not tricking you. It's wonderful what a deal these n.i.g.g.e.rs will bear. There, I like to deal square," he added, as he thrust the money in his pocket. "Smithers, shove a chain on that boy's legs, and another on the man's."

"Ay, ay, sir."

"No, no, for Heaven's sake, no," cried my father.

"Oh, just as you like," said the slave captain. "I was going to give you the shackles; only I warn you, if you don't have them on, that man as soon as you revive him will make for the river and drown himself, and the boy will be off into the woods."

"Do what is best," said my father, and the shackles were put on.

"Shall we hoist them into the boat for you?"

"If you please," said my father, coldly.

"Heave ahead, my lads," cried the slave captain; "and below there, get those brimstone-pans going at once."

"Ay, ay," came from below, and I saw a lighted lanthorn pa.s.sed down as my father's two slaves were hoisted over the side, and lowered into the boat, where Morgan stood ready with a grim smile upon his lip.

"You'll get yours home first, Bruton," said Colonel Preston, coming to my father's side; "my boat's all behind. I say, neighbour, don't preach at me any more. You're as bad as any of us, and I'm glad you've come to your senses at last."

My father gave him a peculiar look, and then glanced at the group of slaves destined for the Preston property, where they stood huddled together quite apathetic and hopeless-looking.

The next minute we were at the gangway, and as I pa.s.sed down, I saw three rough-looking men coming up out of the hold, and a thin bluish vapour began to curl up before they smothered it down by rapidly covering the opening and drawing over it a well-tarred canvas.