“Ay, ay, sir,” said the men; the rope was passed 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 ashore 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 niggers 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.”