"I think," said Freddy, "I should like to have another look at the cargo." For he began to wonder what it consisted of.
"Whelps! " shouted the mate to the boatswain, who was serving out grog to five-and-twenty skulking-looking ruffians, "the cap'en wants another look at the cargo. Take the cap'en into the hold."
"Ay, ay," cried the boatswain. He handed the pannikin to his mate, and went down the main hatch. Freddy followed him. On the main deck he lighted a lantern, and then descended a second "companion," and so reached the lower deck. He then raised a bolted and barred trap-door, and prepared to descend a third ladder. At this point Freddy perceived that the atmosphere in the neighbourhood of the cargo had a distinct and recognisable flavour of its own.
He descended the third ladder. The boatswain held up the lantern, and Freddy formed his first impression of the cargo, and his first impression was that it was cocoa-nuts. But a closer inspection showed that each cocoa-nut had two white glaring eyeballs, and he then formed his second (and right) impression, which was "niggers." As his eyes became accustomed to the darkness he saw that the hold contained from forty to fifty black people, of both sexes, huddled together in a dreadfully uncomfortable manner.
They were chained two and two, the chain of communication running through a staple in the deck. It flashed upon Freddy that he must be the captain of a slaver, at that moment hotly pursued by one of Her Britannic Majesty's ships of war.
