off here!” Most of them had, nevertheless, been stolen from Africa, after they had passed the years of childhood. We met with one woman whose arm had been injured, and on Mrs. C. asking her the cause of this, she related in Spanish, with animated gestures, the story of cruel treatment which she, the defenceless slave, had received at the hands of her master or his agent. Lastly, we went to old Pedro's. I had furnished myself with some coffee for him, and with some Spanish phrases for the people who had charge of him—the man and woman whom I had seen in the field. They were now in the cottage, and old Pedro was sitting there, just as before.
The man's right arm had been crushed in the sugar-mill, which, had obliged it to be amputated above the elbow, after which he purchased his freedom for two hundred pesos; and the woman had also purchased her freedom for the same sum, if I remember correctly. I asked them whether they would like to return to Africa. They answered, with a merry laugh, “No; what should they do there? They were very happy here!” They were thoroughly contented and happy. I besought them to be kind to old Pedro, and God would recompense them! Again they laughed loudly, and replied, “Yes! yes!” Never before had I discovered how amusing I could be.
It had become dark whilst we were standing in the cottage under the cocoa and papaya trees; and the stars came forth gleaming softly from the deep blue sky. We saw from the place where we stood, and which was considerably elevated ground, the red fires shining from the furnaces of Mr. C.'s sugar-mill, and heard the wild songs and shouts which proceeded thence. There was slave-labour; life without rest; the dominion of the whip; the glowing furnace of slavery; here freedom, peace, and rest beneath this beautiful, tropical
