It looked like a good
speculation, for the old man had money. But every one of the women
was a widow, and the most of them widowed two deep. The climate
never agreed with the poor fellows, and just now he had over four
hundred slaves in barracks, and only one son-in-law, an Englishman,
to look after them.
The old man made me welcome. A father couldn't have shown himself
kinder, and when I told him about the _Mary Pynsent_ he could scarce
contain himself.
"If there's one thing more than another I enjoy at my age," said he,
"'tis a salvage job."
And he actually left the agent--A. G.--in charge of the slaves for
three days, while he and I and three of the women took boat and went
after the vessel. We found her still at her moorings, and brought
her round to Whydah, he and me working her with the youngest of the
three (Sarah by name), while the two others cleaned ship. I cannot
say why exactly, but this woman appeared superior to her sisters,
besides being the best looking. The old man--he had an eye lifting
for everything--took notice of this almost before I knew it myself,
and put it to me that I couldn't do better than to marry her.
The woman, being asked, was willing. She had lost two husbands
already, she told me, but the third time was luck.
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