failure?” said this fair she, taking the initiative. “Pah! I needn’t have asked you: it’s clear enough from your looks – though, certes, that beautiful countenance of yours is not a very legible index to your thoughts. What says Vanity Vaughan? Will he sell the girl?”
“No.”
“As I expected.”
“S’help me, he won’t!”
“How much did you bid for her?”
“Och! I’sh ashamed to tell you, Shoodith.”
“Come, old rabbi, you needn’t be backward before me. How much?”
“Two hunder poundsh.”
“Two hundred pounds! Well, that is a high figure! If what you’ve told me be true, his own daughter isn’t worth so much. Ha! ha! ha!”
“Hush, Shoodith, dear! Don’t shpeak of that – for your life don’t shpeak of it. You may shpoil some plansh I hash about her.”
“Have no fear, good father. I never spoiled any plan of yours yet – have I?”
“No, no! You hash been a good shild, my daughter! – a good shild, s’help me gott, you hash.”
“But tell me; why would the Custos not sell? He likes money almost as well as yourself. Two hundred pounds is a large price for this copper-coloured wench – quite double what she’s worth.”
“Ach, Shoodith dear, it wash not Vochan hishelf that refused it.”
“Who then?”
“Thish very daughter you speaksh of.”
“She!” exclaimed the young Jewess, with a curl of the lip, and a contemptuous twist of her beautiful nostril, that all at once changed her beauty into very ugliness. “She, you say? I wonder what next! The conceited mustee– herself no better than a slave!”
“Shtop – shtop, Shoodith,” interrupted the Jew, with a look of uneasiness. “Keep that to yourshelf, my shild. Shay no more about it – at leasht, not now, not now. The trees may have earsh.”
The burst of angry passion hindered the fair “Shoodith” from making rejoinder, and for some moments father and daughter rode on in silence.
The latter was the first to re-commence the conversation.
“You are foolish, good father,” said she; “absurdly foolish.”
“Why, Shoodith?”
“Why? In offering to buy this girl at all.”
“Ay – what would you shay?” inquired the old Jew, as if the interrogatory had been an echo to his own thoughts. “What would you shay?”
“I would say that you are silly, old rabbi Jacob; and that’s what I do say.”
“Blesh my shoul! What dosh you mean, Shoodith?”
“Why, dear and worthy papa, you’re not always so dull of comprehension. Answer me: what do you want the Foolah for?”
“Och! you know what I wants her for, Thish prinshe will give hish twenty Mandingoes for her. There ish no doubt but that she’s his sister. Twenty good shtrong Mandingoes, worth twenty hunder poundsh. Blesh my soul! it’sh a fortune?”
“Well; and if it is a fortune, what then?”
“If it ish? By our fathers! you talk of twenty hunder poundsh ash if monish was dirt.”
“My worthy parent, you misunderstand me.”
“Mishunderstand you, Shoodith?”
“You do. I have more respect for twenty hundred pounds than you give me credit for. So much, as that I advise you to get it.”
“Get it! why, daughter, that ish shoosht what I am trying to do.”
“Ay, and you’ve gone about it in such a foolish fashion, that you run a great risk of losing it.”
“And how would you have me go about it, mine Shoodith?”
“By taking it.”
The slave-merchant suddenly jerked upon the bridle, and pulled his mule to a stand – as he did so darting towards his daughter a look half-puzzled, half-penetrating.
“Good father Jacob,” continued she, halting at the same time, “you are not wont to be so dull-witted. While waiting for you at the gate of this pompous sugar-planter, I could not help reflecting; and my reflections led me to ask the question: what on earth had taken you to his house?”
“And what answer did you find, Shoodith?”
“Oh, not much; only that you went upon a very idle errand.”
“Yesh, it hash been an idle errand: I did not get what I went for.”
“And what matters if you didn’t?”
“Mattersh it? Twenty Mandingoes mattersh a great deal – twenty hunder poundsh currenshy. That ish what it mattersh, Shoodith mine darling!”
“Not the paring of a Mandingo’s toe-nail, my paternal friend.”
“Hach! what shay you, mine wise Shoodith?”
“What say I? Simply, that these Mandingoes might as well have been yours without all this trouble. They may be yet – ay, and their master too, if you desire to have a prince for your slave. I do.”
“Speak out, Shoodith; I don’t understand you.”
“You will presently. Didn’t you say, just now, that Captain Jowler has reasons for not coming ashore?”
“Captain Showler! He would rather land in the Cannibal Islands than in Montego Bay. Well, Shoodith?”
“Rabbi Jessuron, you weary my patience. For the Foolah prince – as you say he is – you are answerable only to Captain Jowler. Captain Jowler comes not ashore.”
“True – it ish true,” assented the Jew, with a gesture that signified his comprehension of these preliminary premises.
“Who, then, is to hinder you from doing as you please in the matter of these Mandingoes?”
“Wonderful Shoodith!” exclaimed the father, throwing up his arms, and turning upon his daughter a look of enthusiastic admiration. “Wonderful Shoodith! Joosh the very thing! – blesh my soul! – and I never thought of it!”
“Well, father; luckily it’s not too late. I have been thinking of it. I knew very well that Kate Vaughan would not part with the girl Yola. I told you she wouldn’t; but, by the bye, I hope you’ve said nothing of what you wanted her for? If you have – ”
“Not a word, Shoodith! not a word!”
“Then no one need be a word the wiser. As to Captain Jowler – ”
“Showler
