“Ay, and you’ve gone about it in such a foolish fashion, that you run a great risk of losing it.”
“And how would you have me go about it, mine Shoodith?”
“By taking it.”
The slave-merchant suddenly jerked upon the bridle, and pulled his mule to a stand—as he did so darting towards his daughter a look half-puzzled, half-penetrating.
“Good father Jacob,” continued she, halting at the same time, “you are not wont to be so dull-witted. While waiting for you at the gate of this pompous sugar-planter, I could not help reflecting; and my reflections led me to ask the question: what on earth had taken you to his house?”
“And what answer did you find, Shoodith?”
“Oh, not much; only that you went upon a very idle errand.”
“Yesh, it hash been an idle errand: I did not get what I went for.”
“And what matters if you didn’t?”
“Mattersh it? Twenty Mandingoes mattersh a great deal—twenty hunder poundsh currenshy. That ish what it mattersh, Shoodith mine darling!”