"Now, how am I expected to live with such a wife as this girl would make me? If it were not for the estate I should be tempted to give her up, and travel to forget her! How shall I overcome her repugnance? Not by courting her; that's demonstrated. Only by being kind to her, and letting her alone." Such was the tenor of his thoughts as he stood a little behind her chair out of her sight.
But Jacquelina, when she found herself free, soon recovered, and arose and left the room.
Until a day or two before Christmas, when, in the evening, she glided in to her uncle's room and sunk down by his side—so unlike herself; so like a spirit—that the old sinner impulsively shrank away from her, and put out his hand to ring for lights.
"No; don't send for candles, uncle! Such a wretch as I am should tell her errand in the dark."
"What do you mean now, minx?"
"Uncle, in all your voyages around the world did you ever stop at
Constantinople? And did you ever visit a slave mart there?"
"Yes; of course I have! What then? What the deuce are you dreaming of?"
"How much would such a girl as myself bring in the slave market of the
Sultan's city?"
"Are you crazy?" asked the commodore, opening his eyes to their widest extent.
"I don't know. If I am, it can make little difference in your plans. But as there is method in my madness, please to answer my question. How much would I sell for in Constantinople?"