“Mr. Harrington,” said he, after an embarrassed pause, “suppose Lafitte wouldn’t be willing to take even ten thousand.”
“My dear Mr. Atkins,” replied Harrington, laughing—alas! he found it hard to laugh, poor gentleman—“do you not see that if Mr. Lafitte refuses to take so extravagant a sum, he will only make himself ridiculous in the eyes of the New Orleans people. Why, they will hoot at him! And besides, they will extol your public spirit to the skies. It will give you a name there no other merchant possesses. Just think of it! Why, Lafitte would be forced to accept out of pure shame, even were he indifferent to the advantage of having the round sum of ten thousand dollars.”
“I declare, sir, this is too preposterously absurd,” said the merchant, growing red with vexation at being thus tempted out of his plan. “To think of wasting so much money as that for such a purpose.”
“But, Mr. Atkins,” replied Harrington, “large as the sum is, what is it compared with your sister’s peace of mind? If you only knew the dreadful state of distress she is in, you would not think so. True her distress may be nonsensical, but still as a practical man you will be willing to allow that we must take human nature as we find it. Besides, we need not give so large a sum. We only wish to give enough to repair matters, and set you right with the New Orleans folks. Lafitte can appraise his slave, and regard for public opinion will make him keep within reason. Still we are ready to do anything rather than have you prejudiced in your business, or your sister injured as, at her time of life, this matter would injure her.”
“I don’t see why you should interest yourself so much in this affair, Mr. Harrington,” grumbled the merchant.
“Pardon me, I am only an agent,” replied Harrington, with a sweet civility which not even Atkins could resist. “I hope you will excuse me if I have said anything to offend your sense of propriety, but I only meant to suggest a way out of this unpleasant embroilment, which I thought might not have occurred to you, and which I am sure will commend itself to your judgment as a practical business man, and one who only desires fair play to all parties. I trust there is no offence in this Mr. Atkins.”
“Oh, no sir, no sir,” said the merchant hastily, with an awkward bow, his jaw working meanwhile with his embarrassment at the deferential politeness with which Harrington presented what he could not but admit was an unexceptionable way of settling the whole matter. “No offence at all, sir. But—well—what I—well the fact is, Mr. Harrington, you know my political views, which of course you don’t agree with.”
“We will not differ about politics, sir,” replied Harrington with gracious affability.
“No, of course not, of course not,” fidgeted Mr. Atkins. “But this is the point: There has been too much tampering with slave property in this country, sir, and I wanted to send that man back that Southern men might see that we are devoted to their interests, and can promptly return their property without putting them to the trouble of legal formalities.”
“My dear sir,” put in Harrington, “in what better way could you prove your devotion to the interests of Southern men than by the plan I mention? Consider how inferior the return of the man would be to the magnificent offer to pay ten times his value, publicly made, and promptly accomplished. The one would be the theme of limited complimentary mention, but the other would be blazoned far and wide, and loud and long. A Northern merchant willing to sacrifice ten thousand dollars even, rather than loosen one bond of political or business fellowship between the North and South! Why, it is impossible that you should not see the superiority of this measure to accomplish the very end you have in view.”