"
Manuel looked at the Captain as if he read something doubtful in his
countenance, and turned away with a pitiful look of dissatisfaction.
It seems that through his imperfect knowledge of English, he had
misconceived the position of the celebrated Thomas Norman Gadsden,
whom he imagined to be something like an infernal machine, made and
provided by the good citizens of Charleston to catch bad niggers.
"Nora-ma Gazine no catch-e me, Cap-i-tan, if me go ashore, 'case me
no make trouble in no part de world where me sail, Oh! no,
Cap-i-tan, Manuel know how to mine dis bisness," said he returning
again to the Captain.
"Yes, yes, Manuel, but we can't let the crew go ashore 'till we get
through the custom-house; you must content yourself to-night, and in
the morning 'twill be all right. I'm afraid you'll get sick
again-the night-air is very bad in this climate; old Gadsden won't
trouble you. He don't walk about at night."
Manuel walked forward, not very well satisfied with the manner in
which the Captain put him off. The latter felt the necessity of
caution, fearing he might infringe upon some of the municipal
regulations that the pilot had given him an account of, which
accounted for his refusal Manuel sat upon the main-hatch fondling
Tommy, and telling him what good things they would have in the
morning for breakfast, and how happy they ought to be that they were
not lost during the gales, little thinking that he was to be the
victim of a merciless law, which would confine him within the iron
grates of a prison before the breakfast hour in the morning.
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