“Think you the wind will hold here, sir?” shouted the latter, at the top of his voice.
“It has come in fresh enough to be steady,” was the answer.
“A wise mariner would get all his easting in time to me, there is a smack of West-Indies about it.”
“You believe we shall have it more at south?”
“I do: But a taught bow-line, for the night, will carry you clear.”
By this time the “Caroline” had swept by, and she was now luffing, across the slaver’s bows, into her course again. The figure on the taffrail waved high the sea-cap in adieu, and disappeared.
“Is it possible that such a man can traffic in human beings!” exclaimed Gertrude, when the sounds of both voices had ceased.
Receiving no reply, she turned quickly, to regard her companion. The governess was standing like a being entranced, with her eyes looking on vacancy for they had not changed their direction since the motion of the vessel had carried her beyond the countenance of the stranger. As Gertrude took her hand, and repeated the question, the recollection of Mrs Wyllys returned. Passing her own hand over her brow, with a bewildered air, she forced a smile as she said,—
“The meeting of vessels, or the renewal of any maritime experience, never fails to revive my earliest recollections, love. But surely that was an extraordinary being, who has at length shown himself in the slaver!”
“For a slaver, most extraordinary!”