To render John Davis the justice due to him, we will say that he was neither better nor worse than any of his fellows who trafficked in human flesh. Accustomed to the sufferings of slaves, who to him were nothing but beings deprived of reason, or merchandize in a word, his heart had gradually grown callous to softer emotions: he only saw in a Negro the money he had expended, and what he expected to gain by him, and like a true tradesman, he was very fond of money: a runaway Negro seemed to him a wretched thing, against whom any means were permissible in order to prevent a loss. Still, this man was not insensible to every good feeling; apart from his trade, he even enjoyed a certain reputation for kindness, and passed for a gentleman. "There, that is all right," the Canadian said, as he gave a satisfied glance at the bandages; "in three weeks there will be nothing to be seen, if you take care of yourself; for, through a remarkable piece of good luck, the bone has not been touched, and the ball has only passed through the fleshy part of the arm. Now, my good friend, if you like to talk, I am ready." "I have nothing to say, except to ask you to return the scoundrel who is the cause of the whole mishap." "Hum! If we go on in that way, I am afraid we shall not come to an understanding. You know perfectly that the whole quarrel arose about the surrender of the scoundrel, as you term him." "Still, I cannot lose my money." "What money do you mean?" "Well, my slave, if you prefer it; he represents a sum I do not at all care to lose; the less so, because things have been going very queerly with me lately, and I have suffered some heavy losses." "That is annoying, and I pity you sincerely; still, I should like to settle the affair amicably as I began," the Canadian continued. The American made a grimace. "It is a deuced amicable way you have of settling matters," he said. "It is your fault, my friend; if we did not come to an immediate arrangement, it was because you were a little too quick, as you will allow." "Well, we will not say any more about that, for what's done cannot be undone." "You are right, so let us return to business. Unluckily, I am poor; were not so, I would give you a few hundred dollars, and all would be settled." The dealer scratched his head. "Listen," he said. "I do not know why, but, in spite of all that has passed between us, perhaps in consequence of it, I should not like for us to separate on bad terms; the more so, because, to tell you the truth, I care very little for Quoniam." "Who's Quoniam?" "The nigger." "Oh, very good, that's a funny name you have given him; however, no matter, you say you care very little for him?" "Indeed I do." "Then why did you begin the obstinate hunt with dogs and guns?" "Through pride." "Oh!" the Canadian said, with a start of dissatisfaction. "Listen to me, I am a slave dealer." "A very ugly trade, by the way," the hunter observed.