“I see you haven’t the fear of Sir David Brewster and the North British Review before your eyes, Mr. Onslow.”
“No, for I do not regard them as infallible either in questions of physical or of metaphysical science. Rather, with John Wesley, the founder of Methodism, would I say, ‘With my latest breath will I bear testimony against giving up to infidels one great proof of the invisible world, that, namely, of witchcraft and apparitions, confirmed by the testimony of all ages.’”
While this discussion was proceeding, Colonel Hyde and his new acquaintance were pacing the larboard side of the deck, pausing now and then at the railing forward of the wheel-house and looking down on the lower deck, where, seated upon a coil of cables, were four negroes, one of them, and he the most intelligent-looking of the lot, being handcuffed.
“How are niggers now?” asked Mr. Vance.
“Niggers air bringin’ fust-rate prices jest now,” replied the Colonel; “and Gov’nor Wise he reckons ef we fix Californy and Kahnsas all right, a prime article of a nigger will fotch twenty-five hunderd dollars, sure.”
“What’s the prospect of doing that?”
“Good. The South ain’t sleeping,—no, not by a damned sight. Californy’s bound to be ourn, an’ the Missouri boys will take car’ of Kahnsas.”
“I see the North are threatening to send in armed immigrants,” said Vance; “and one John Brown swears Kansas shall be free soil.”
“John Brown be damned!” replied the Colonel. “One common Suthun man is more’n a match fur five of thar best Yankees, any day. Kahnsas must be ourn, ef we hev to shoot every white squatter in the hull terrertory. By the way, that’s a likely yuller gal, sittin’ thar with the bebby. That gal ud bring sixteen hunderd dollars sure in Noo Orleenz.”
“Whose niggers are those I see forward there, on the cables?” asked Vance.