"You are unwise," says he, in a calm tone.
"Nay, master," says Jack, piteously. "I did but speak a word to my child."
"If you understand our tongue," adds I, "you will know that we did but bid her have patience, and wait."
"Possibly," says he. "Nevertheless, you compel me henceforth to keep her a close prisoner, when I would give her all the liberty possible."
"Master," says Jack, imploring, "I do pray you not to punish her for my fault. Let her still have the freedom of your garden, and I promise you we will go away this day and return no more until we can purchase her liberty for ever."
"Good," says the old man, "but mark you keep your promise. Know that 'tis an offence against the law to incite a slave to revolt. I tell you this, not as a threat, for I bear you no ill will, but as a warning to save you from consequences which I may be powerless to avert."
This did seem to me a hint at some sinister design of Mohand ou Mohand--a wild suspicion, maybe, on my part, and yet, as I think, justified by evils yet to come.
CHAPTER XXXIX.
Of our bargaining with a Moorish seaman; and of an English slave.
We lost no time, be sure, in going back to Alger, blessing God on the way for our escape, and vowing most heartily that we would be led into no future folly, no matter how simple and innocent the temptation might seem.