“We’ve come for nigs—true, sir, for you—but we’ve come for more.”
“How now, mate? Don’t keep backin’ and fillin’, but jest out with what you have to say plain.”
“Waal, that Simon’s a deep one, and he’s jest made Camacho fall in with him. The brig the lad came from comes here to trade. Her old man has made a book with the fellow they calls King Okopa here; and Okopa has oil, ivory, and rubber ready, so when the brig comes she can load quick.”
“Why, how does that go? I guess Simon ain’t too cute; for if the Britisher guesses we’re here, he’ll off and set some of their bull-dogs after us.”
“I reckon Pentlea and Camacho won’t let him.”
“How, mate, can he stop it?”
“Not so difficult. Simon, he’s real bad and bitter; for the skipper of the brig laid a cruiser on him some four years back, and he lost his ship. And now he says to Camacho we can get the brig, and her cargo’ll pay for slaves to fill her and both schooners.”
“But, mate, I say that’s piracy.”
“Waal, ain’t slaving piracy?”
“Not so. It stands to reason as nigs was made for slaves; but to rob white men, that’s a different guess sort of thing.”