Grimshaw, the lean,
haggard-looking man we have before described. His dark, craven
features, as he sat peering through his glasses at the morning news,
gave him the appearance of a man of whom little was, to be expected
by those who had the misfortune to fall into his hands.
"Ah! Dunn, you are the best officer in the city; 'pon my soul, these
fellows can't escape you! Where did you pick up that nigger?" said
he, with a look of satisfaction.
"A fat fee case, Mr. Grimshaw, 'contrary to law;' he's a Portugee
nigger. Never had so much trouble with a nigger in my life; I didn't
know but the fellow was going to preach a sermon. The Captain-he
belongs to a wrecked Englishman-wanted to come the gammon game with
him, and pass him for a white man; but sure he couldn't come that
game over meself and Duse, anyhow," said Dunn.
Without saying a word, Manuel stood up before his accusers, upon
this strange charge of "contrary to law."
As he looked upon his accusers, he said, "What have I done to suffer
a murderer's fate? Am I to be sold as a slave, because of the
visitation of God? I have done no murder! No!--nor have I stolen in
your land! and why did these men decoy me into"--
"Silence! silence! You are in the sheriff's office," said Dunn,
pointing his finger at his nose. "You can't come your John Bull
nigger in South Carolina.
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