Lyndsay mentioned his objections to the freight.
“Who told you that?” asked the little owner, somewhat excited.
“Mr. Peterson. We parted from him only a few minutes ago.”
“The scoundrel! the mean, dirty scoundrel!” said Gregg, stamping on the floor. “Why, Sir, Mr. Lyndsay, his own ship carries the same freight. What did he say about that?”
“He told me yesterday, she took out a general cargo——”
“Of brandy and gunpowder. Both vessels are employed by the same house, and take out the same freight. You must, however, please yourself, Mr. Lyndsay. The Flora has a great number of passengers of the lowest cast,—is old and crank; with the most vicious, morose captain that sails from this port. I know him only too well. He made two voyages for me; and the letters I received, complaining of his brutal conduct to some of his passengers, I can show you at my office.”
“You have said enough, Mr. Gregg, to deter me from taking my wife and child in the Flora. The deceitful conduct of Mr. Peterson alone would have determined me not to contract with him. And now, what will you take us for? Our party consists of my wife and infant, a lad of thirteen years who accompanies us, a servant-girl, and myself.”
Mr. Gregg considered for some minutes. “Well,” he said, “there is a large party of you; but I will give your wife, child, and self, a cabin passage, finding you in the same fare as the captain, and the lad and servant a second cabin passage, but the privilege of the cabin-table, for thirty pounds. Is that too much?”
“It is very liberal indeed. Peterson asked fifty.”
“It is reasonable; but as you have to wait a fortnight longer in order to sail with me, I have taken that into account. Is it a bargain?”