The Virginians | Page 3

stood on his deck, and congratulated the captain upon the
speedy and fortunate voyage which he had made. And, remarking that
we ought to be thankful to Heaven for its mercies, he proceeded
presently to business by asking particulars relative to cargo and
passengers.
Franks was a pleasant man, who loved a joke. "We have," says he, "but
yonder ugly negro boy, who is fetching the trunks, and a passenger who
has the state cabin to himself."
Mr. Trail looked as if he would have preferred more mercies from
Heaven. "Confound you, Franks, and your luck! The Duke William,
which came in last week, brought fourteen, and she is not half of our
tonnage."
"And this passenger, who has the whole cabin, don't pay nothin',"
continued the Captain. "Swear now, it will do you good, Mr. Trail,
indeed it will. I have tried the medicine."
"A passenger take the whole cabin and not pay? Gracious mercy, are
you a fool, Captain Franks?"
"Ask the passenger himself, for here he comes." And, as the master
spoke, a young man of some nineteen years of age came up the
hatchway. He had a cloak and a sword under his arm, and was dressed
in deep mourning, and called out, "Gumbo, you idiot, why don't you
fetch the baggage out of the cabin? Well, shipmate, our journey is
ended. You will see all the little folks to-night whom you have been
talking about. Give my love to Polly, and Betty, and Little Tommy; not
forgetting my duty to Mrs. Franks. I thought, yesterday, the voyage
would never be done, and now I am almost sorry it is over. That little
berth in my cabin looks very comfortable now I am going to leave it."

Mr. Trail scowled at the young passenger who had paid no money for
his passage. He scarcely nodded his head to the stranger, when Captain
Franks said, "This here gentleman is Mr. Trail, sir, whose name you
have a-heerd of."
"It's pretty well known in Bristol, sir," says Mr. Trail, majestically.
"And this is Mr. Warrington, Madam Esmond Warrington's son, of
Castlewood," continued the Captain.
The British merchant's hat was instantly off his head, and the owner of
the beaver was making a prodigious number of bows as if a crown
prince were before him.
"Gracious powers, Mr. Warrington! This is a delight, indeed! What a
crowning mercy that your voyage should have been so prosperous! You
must have my boat to go on shore. Let me cordially and respectfully
welcome you to England: let me shake your hand as the son of my
benefactress and patroness, Mrs. Esmond Warrington, whose name is
known and honoured on Bristol 'Change, I warrant you. Isn't it,
Franks?"
"There's no sweeter tobacco comes from Virginia, and no better brand
than the Three Castles," says Mr. Franks, drawing a great brass
tobacco-box from his pocket, and thrusting a quid into his jolly mouth.
"You don't know what a comfort it is, sir! you'll take to it, bless you, as
you grow older. Won't he, Mr. Trail? I wish you had ten shiploads of it
instead of one. You might have ten shiploads: I've told Madam Esmond
so; I've rode over her plantation; she treats me like a lord when I go to
the house; she don't grudge me the best of wine, or keep me cooling my
heels in the counting-room as some folks does" (with a look at Mr.
Trail). "She is a real born lady, she is; and might have a thousand
hogsheads as easy as her hundreds, if there were but hands enough."
"I have lately engaged in the Guinea trade, and could supply her
ladyship with any number of healthy young negroes before next fall,"
said Mr. Trail, obsequiously.

"We are averse to the purchase of negroes from Africa," said the young
gentleman, coldly. "My grandfather and my mother have always
objected to it, and I do not like to think of selling or buying the poor
wretches."
"It is for their good, my dear young sir! for their temporal and their
spiritual good!" cried Mr. Trail. "And we purchase the poor creatures
only for their benefit; let me talk this matter over with you at my own
house. I can introduce you to a happy home, a Christian family, and a
British merchant's honest fare. Can't I, Captain Franks?"
"Can't say," growled the Captain. "Never asked me to take bite or sup
at your table. Asked me to psalm-singing once, and to hear Mr. Ward
preach: don't care for them sort of entertainments."
Not choosing to take any notice of this remark, Mr. Trail continued in
his low tone: "Business is business, my dear young sir, and I know, 'tis
only my duty, the duty of all of us, to