The irate Irishman had been calmed down by reason and expostulation, and had again been roused to great indignation several times since we left him, by the account of things connected with the slave-trade, given him by the trader, who, although he had no interest in it himself, did not feel very much aggrieved by the sufferings he witnessed around him.
“You don’t mane to tell me, now, that whalers comes in here for slaves, do ye?” said Briant, placing his two fists on his two knees, and thrusting his head towards the trader, who admitted that he meant to say that; and that he meant, moreover, to add, that the thing was by no means of rare occurrence—that whaling ships occasionally ran into that very port on their way south, shipped a cargo of negroes, sold them at the nearest slave-buying port they could make on the American coast, and then proceeded on their voyage, no one being a whit the wiser.
“You don’t mean it?” remarked Tim Rokens, crossing his legs and devoting himself to his pipe, with the air of a man who mourned the depravity of his species, but did not feel called upon to disturb his equanimity very much because of it.
Phil Briant clenched his teeth, and glared.
“Indeed I do mean it,” reiterated the trader. “Would you believe it, there was one whaler put in here, and what does he do but go and invite a lot o’ free blacks aboard to have a blow-out; and no sooner did he get them down into the hold then he shut down the hatches, sailed away, and sold ’em every one.”
“Ah! morther, couldn’t I burst?” groaned Phil; “an’ ov coorse they left a lot o’ fatherless children and widders behind ’em.”
“They did; but all the widders are married again, and most of the children are grown up.”
Briant looked as if he did not feel quite sure whether he ought to regard this as a comforting piece of information or the reverse, and wisely remained silent.
“And now you must excuse me if I leave you to ramble about alone for some time, as I have business to transact; meanwhile I’ll introduce you to a nigger who will show you about the place, and one who, if I mistake not, will gladly accompany you to sea as steward’s assistant.”
The trader opened a door which led to the back part of his premises, and shouted to a stout negro who was sawing wood there, and who came forward with alacrity.