"Willing to help you run a cargo of slaves over to Cuba," I repeated.
"Yes; that's just what they are willing to do; and you will be of the same mind before I have done with you."
"I hope not; though I don't know how much I am able to bear."
"Nor I; neither do I care. You shall have enough of it before you are done. But I did not come here to pass compliments with you."
"I did not suspect you of any such intention."
"I'm glad you know me," he continued, seating himself on the steward's berth. "I'm not an angel."
"You needn't have said that."
"Nor are you."
"I am not."
"But when a man uses me well, I am his friend."