"What!" exclaimed the mate.
"None for me, sir."
"Don't you drink liquor?"
"Yes, sir; when I'm on shore I do; but I never was in the habit of drinking it on board ship."
The mate looked very ugly.
"Here, Baxter," he added, turning to the next man.
"None for me, sir."
I was amazed at the self-denial and firmness of these men. The others followed their example; not one of them would take the grog. They understood that it was a bribe—that it was used to induce them to comply with the new order of events. At that moment I felt that the Michigan would not bear a cargo of shackled human beings over the ocean, to be sold into bondage in Cuba or the Southern States. The grog was served out to the rest of the crew, who did not refuse it.
"I suppose we are to understand that the bark is bound down the coast of Africa, slaving," continued Jack, when the mate came aft again.
"You can understand what you please," growled Waterford, savagely; for his good humor had failed him with the defeat of his scheme to win over the men.