“You will not have cause to regret going, as far as we are concerned,” he observed; “as for the rest, we must leave that to Providence.”
Harry and I had, of course, been very often on board vessels, and made several trips down the Mersey, returning in the pilot-boat, but neither of us had ever been at sea. It was necessary that we should both see the cargo stowed, and be acquainted with the contents of every bale. As soon as it was stowed the brig would sail. I therefore hastened over to the neighbourhood of Chester to pay my promised visit to my family. “I shall be gone only five or six months,” I said cheerfully, fully believing that such would be the case. “I will take good care of myself, depend upon that. I won’t trust the black fellows, and will never sleep on shore.”
On my return I found the vessel nearly ready to take in cargo. Harry and I were employed from morning until night in the warehouse, examining and noting the goods. We then both went on board, one remaining on deck to book them as they were hoisted in, the other going below to see them stowed away, so that we might know where each bale and package was to be found. Captain Magor was also on board assisting us, as were his two mates, Tom Sherwin and Ned Capstick, both rough, honest hands, as far as I could judge, who had been chosen by the master simply because they were good seamen and bold fellows in whom he could trust. While we stood by, notebooks in hand, it was their business to stow away the various packages; and as we were together many hours every day, we became pretty well acquainted before we sailed. We had a few hours left after the cargo was on board and the hatches fastened down.
I should have said I had made all the inquiries I could for Captain Roderick, but could hear nothing of him, nor did he ever come near Mr Crank’s house after he knew I saw him waiting at the door. I had another reason for supposing that he had gone. Mr Trunnion had regained his usual spirits, and looked as cheerful as he did before his brother’s appearance.
“You have acted discreetly, Westerton,” said Mr Trunnion to me one day when I was alone with him in his private room. “Whether Captain Magor was right or not in the fearful accusation he brought against that unhappy man. I know not. The ‘Vulture’ has, I trust, long since sailed. I wish you to understand that, although she was once our vessel, she does not now belong to us, and I need not say how I fear she is employed.”
I was pleased to receive this commendation from my principal. I merely replied that I hoped to be always able to give him satisfaction in whatever way he might be pleased to employ me. He shook hands with me warmly on parting. “You will receive full written directions from the firm for your guidance while on the coast, and I hope that we shall see you and Bracewell back again well and hearty in a few months with a full cargo. I have great confidence in Captain Magor, into whose character, since he went to sea, we have made minute inquiries, and you will find him a bold and sagacious seaman, and an obliging and agreeable companion.”
Before I left the counting-house, Mr Swab called me into his little den, into which he was wont to retire whenever he had any private business to transact, although he generally sat in the outer office, that he might keep an eye on the clerks and see that there was no idling.
“My dear boy,” he said in a kind tone, “I have had a talk with Harry, and now I want to speak with you, and I’ll say to you what I said to him: Work together with a will; do not let the slightest feeling of jealousy spring up between you, and give and take. If he is right one time, you’ll be ready to follow him the next; while, if your opinion proves correct, he will be ready to follow you. I am sure you will both act as you consider best for the interest of the firm; and remember there is One above who sees you, and you must do nothing which He disapproves of—your conscience will tell you that. You are to be engaged in a lawful traffic. If carried on fairly, it must of necessity tend to advance the interest of the Africans. We did them harm enough formerly when we were engaged in the slave trade, although I for one didn’t see it at the time, and was entirely ignorant of the horrors it inflicted on the unfortunate natives. If I thought at all, I thought they exchanged barbarism for civilisation; and what are called the horrors of the middle passage were not so great in those days as they are now, when the traffic has become unlawful. We had roomy vessels, the slaves were well-fed and looked after; and the master had no fear of being chased by a man-of-war, so that they could wait in harbour when the weather was threatening, and run across the Atlantic with a favourable breeze. You will very likely see something of the business, and hear more of it while you are up the rivers; but you must in no way interfere, either to help a slaver by supplying her with goods, provisions, or water, or by giving information to the man-of-war of her whereabouts, unless the question is asked, and you will then tell the truth. And now about your personal conduct. You must do all you can to keep your health. Be strictly sober. Do not expose yourself to the heat by day nor to the damp air by night, which is, I understand, more likely to prove injurious than even the sun’s rays. Never lose your temper with the natives, or any one else, for that matter; and, from what I can learn, you are often likely to be tried. Many people fancy they show their spirit by losing their temper; in reality they always give an opponent an advantage over them, and the negroes are quick enough to perceive that. Do not imagine them fools because they do not understand your language. Indeed, I might say, as a golden rule, never hold too cheap the person with whom you are bargaining or an enemy with whom you are engaged in fighting. You will, of course, be very exact in all your accounts, and endeavour to obtain such information as you possibly can from all directions likely to prove of further use to the firm. Now, my dear boy, farewell. I pray that you and Harry may be protected from the dangers to which you will be exposed.”
The worthy man said much more to the same purpose. The “Arrow” had, in the meantime, hauled out into the stream, and Harry and I went on board that evening, as she was to sail at daybreak, the tide being fair, the next morning. Mrs Bracewell and Mary accompanied us, very naturally wishing to see the last of us; and just as we were setting out, Lucy Crank arrived, greatly to Harry’s satisfaction.
“Papa did not object to my going, and I thought that Mrs Bracewell and Mary would require some one to cheer them up,” she said.