“I only wish I could say,” said Ethan. “But I assure you I know nothing of its whereabouts.”
Danvers smiled coldly.
“Here, men!” he cried to some of his followers, who had withdrawn some little distance during the above conversation, “search these prisoners; and do it thoroughly.”
The men did as they were bidden; their search was complete, but, of course it resulted in nothing. Danvers bit his lip and was savage in his disappointment.
“Jones has it, then,” he said. “The villain; I’ll have it from him yet.”
“You seem very ready, Mr. Danvers, to apply harsh names to Americans.”
“Jones is not an American.”
“You are wrong. By accident of birth he was a Scotchman; but love of liberty and the willingness to dare death in her cause has made him American.”
“He is a rascally ex-slaver,” growled Danvers.
“If a lad of eighteen was a rascal for taking employment in a slave ship, then the English government must be a government of rascals for encouraging that hideous traffic that they might gain money by it.”