“Oh, no; they’ll let in a bit o’ air through the hatch-gratings in good weather. The voyage ain’t a-goin’ to last for ever. Say, d’ye think this is a slow ship? You seen her run. Honest now, how long d’ye calculate we be ’tween here an’ the Guinea coast. A man, even a nigger, can stand bein’ shut up a little while. An’ then, stave you, Heywood, for a priest, don’t ye think a bit o’ sufferin’ is worth goin’ through to be a good Christian an’ die in the faith, hey? Every black bloomin’ son of a gun’ll be as good Christian as you are afore he dies.”
I said no more. When I saw Tim he showed no surprise.
“I expected at least that,” he said. “It’s Yankee Dan’s principal business. I was with them once before, an’ that’s the reason I wanted you to clear.”
“It’s a strange Yankee that should be at the head of such a business,” said I. “Now, if a Spaniard--”
“Stow it!” said Tim, angrily. “There never was any other real slaver than the Yankee, an’ they’re the ones makin’ the most howl against it. Nearly every slave-ship that comes here has a Yankee shipper.”
This I found later to be only too true. It was more than disgraceful for the fact that, even at that time, in the Northern States there had been angry discussions upon the question, the South being scored heavily for the slaves it held from necessity to work the plantations.
It was evident that the English governor winked at the trade, and that few, if any, of our crew had suspected before this time just what the barque’s trade would be. As there seemed every prospect of many of them not coming aboard again, I would not worry myself about the matter when they would learn the truth. As for Martin, he would be glad to be in a slaver, and as for the morals of the rest of the liberty crew, they were not worth considering when pitted against a few English sovereigns or American dollars. I went aft that evening to lower the colours with a very disagreeable feeling at the prospect in store.
It was always the custom aboard The Gentle Hand, I learned, to lower the colours in man-o’-war style when the vessel was in soundings, so I repaired to the quarter-deck to load one of the after guns, and stand by to set the sun.
Tim went with me, acting as quartermaster, and I felt somewhat abashed at the presence of Miss Allen, Yankee Dan’s daughter. I wondered if she had seen me come aboard, and the memory of that jumper put on upside down made my face wear a smile that was not lost on Hawkson.
“Glad to see you lookin’ happy, Heywood. Yer see, this ain’t sech a bad ship, after all. Put a good big charge in that twelve-pounder, and p’int her straight for the governor’s house, and let him know there’s some say t’us. It never hurts to put on a bit o’ side to these lazy rulers,” said he, as I began unlacing the gun-cover.