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mad, the blacks! And the British will sweat with rage, for they have no right to search us. The only danger for us is if the British are able to notify the American patrol. But I tell you, such a ship is only here to protect us against any abuse by the damned English! For as everyone knows, our whole country is for the trade, in spite of the scoundrels who cry and fling themselves about at the fate of the poor poor black fellows. Poor indeed! Living in savagery and ignorance. Think on this—their own chiefs can’t wait to throw them in our holds!”
    â€œBut what can the British do?”
    â€œThey could try to blockade us if we were so unwise as to sail up a river. They could force us, once we’ve taken on slaves and unloaded our cargo, to put on so much sail we’d be in danger if they gave chase.”
    â€œYou’ve been on slavers before,” I said.
    â€œAll of us have,” he replied. “It’s nasty work. And it’s not everyone has the nerve for it.” His mood suddenly changed for he gave me a big grin. “Perhaps you’ll be carrying a pistol yourself, runt that you are!”
    â€œA pistol!”
    â€œAye. We’re all armed as long as we’re in sight of the coast. If the blacks try anything, it’ll be then, when they can still see where they came from. Oh, they’ve done terrible things I could tell you about! Killing a crew and a master and all, then flinging themselves back into the sea, even shackled!”
    I thought suddenly of the stories I had heard at home about slave uprisings in Virginia and South Carolina. My breath came short—here, within eyesight, was the very world from which such slaves had been taken. Here, on this small ship, we would be carrying God knows how many of them, and I, without at this instant being able to conceive in what manner, was to make them dance.
    â€œWhy must the slaves dance?” I asked timidly, for fear of annoying Smith. At that moment, I was afraid of everyone on The Moonlight, just as I had been when I first set my foot upon her deck.
    â€œBecause it keeps them healthy,” said Smith. “It’s hard to make a profit out of a sick nigger—the insurance ain’t so easy to collect. And it makes any Captain wild to jettison the sick ones within sight of the marketplace itself after all the trouble he’s gone to.”
    Smith went off and left me to my apprehension. It didn’t let up much until the next dawn when I saw land clearly for the first time.
    Green and brown and white, trees and shore and waves. I thought of home. At the same time, I was overcome by a dreadful thirst.
    I thought I had grown accustomed to doing without everything that was familiar, accepting small rations of water and food without question. But the sight of the land, a longing to set foot on something that didn’t rock and pitch and groan and creak, made the room on Pirate’s Alley the only place in the world I wanted to be. To sit on a bench there in a private patch of sunlight and slowly peel and eat an orange! At that moment, I glimpsed Purvis dragging an enormous tarpaulin across the deck.
    I hated him!
    â€œGive me a hand with this, Jessie,” he shouted.
    I didn’t move.
    â€œJust take up the end of it,” he called again.
    Still, I remained unmoving, nearly senseless with rage.
    â€œGet to it!” said the awful dead voice of Nicholas Spark.
    Not for the last time, I considered casting myself over the side and confounding them all! But I submitted, convinced there was no one on the ship who would throw me a rope and rescue me from the water. I went slowly toward Purvis, feeling a shame I’d never felt before.
    With my help and Gardere’s, Purvis set up a tent on the deck. He volunteered the information that it was for the slaves to sit under when they had their meals. I had not inquired, and I made no comment. I wasn’t much better off than the slaves