Some two weeks later, his gait betraying little of his recent bout of illness, Edward was once more able to walk about unaided. The doctor informed him that he was now acclimatized, and whilst he must continue to be ever vigilant with regard to the many diseases which abounded on the African coast, his worst fears were over. Edward secured temporary lodgings down by the harbor, and then set about making enquiries as to how he might obtain a passage to Liberia. A Dutch sea captain, who chanced to be drinking in the same tavern as Edward, informed him that whilst he was battling with the fever, whatever dispute it was that had occasioned the cessation of civilities between Sierra Leone and Liberia had been successfully concluded. Apparently, he would simply have to await the arrival of a ship that would agree to transport him. Edward thanked the gentleman, and listened as the sad, drawn-out sound of a bugle being blown from the parapets of the British fortress signalled the end of the day. As the last note drifted away and across the sea, Edward emptied his tankard, gathered up his cane, tipped his hat, and retired to his rented rooms, where he slept and dreamed soundly, and passed a blessed night without once breaking sweat.
The following afternoon, Edward engaged the services of the first mate of an American trading vessel. The experienced sea dog advised Edward that they would be setting sail on the evening tide, which meant there would be little time for Edward to occupy himself with spiritual preparation for the journey ahead. He simply hurried back to his rooms, gathered his belongings, paid the landlord, and employed a sturdy native to convey his boxed personal effects to the ship. The moon shimmered on the wrinkled face of the sea, and a stern breeze bellied out the sail. Edward settled in, and decided that he would pass most of his time sitting out on deck amongst the bales of luggage, breathing deeply of the salty air, and staring at the gleaming shoals of flying fish which leapt to either side of the ship. His inner being was filled with a strange tranquility, and a deep peace fell upon him at least the equal to any he had ever known in his life, although the origins and purpose of this strangely contemplative mood eluded him. In his mind he would rehearse scenes from the life of Christ, yet found that even in Christ’s moments of greatest adversity, such as when betrayed by Judas, or when being led to the Cross, his Lord’s face never lost its purity and compassion. Edward wondered if this peace were not perhaps the herald of his impending demise, but when this thought fought its way into his mind, he redoubled his strength and immediately banished it.
There was simply no way of Edward discovering whether the man with whom he most eagerly desired an audience, namely Madison Williams, had received the letter informing him of Edward’s intention to set sail for Liberia, and giving him notice of the anticipated week of arrival. Following the souring of Edward’s relationship with this difficult man, when it became clear to all that a junior slave, Nash, had supplanted Madison in the master’s affections, Madison, a strong, proud man, both of character and stature, had withdrawn from the house and, in the privacy of the slave village, intensified his efforts to acquaint himself with the Bible and with the skills of reading and writing. After nearly two years, in which Madison rejected Edward’s many overtures towards him, perhaps recognizing that they originated in Edward’s guilt at having surrendered to his own changing passions, a sober-looking Madison had presented himself at the house and requested an audience of his master. When Edward appeared he announced that he now considered himself sufficiently educated, and properly acquainted with God’s ways, to have earned his freedom and subsequent transportation to the new African territory of Liberia. Edward, who had long desired the opportunity of bestowing upon Madison a gesture of good-will, hurriedly agreed to Madison’s request and asked if there were anything further that he might do. Madison shook his head firmly, bowed and withdrew. Soon after, he made his preparations to depart for Africa. His subsequent letters to Edward, though brief, had remained polite. Through them, Edward was able to discover that Madison had settled in Monrovia and was eking out a living as a small trader selling palm oil, rice, camwood, and animal skins to passing European and American ships. As this short voyage unfolded, Edward arrived at the uncomfortable conclusion that, perhaps because of the warmth of their first encounters, or perhaps this and the additional fact that the passage of time had served to sever Edward’s links with many of his other former charges, Madison had now become the only person in Africa whom he felt he could trust. Indeed, it had been to Madison that he had immediately turned when faced with the unpleasant details of Nash’s abrupt and final message. He would now have little choice but to place his entire confidence in this man.
Edward’s first sighting of Monrovia came at dawn, but it certainly did not occasion his heart to leap with joy. In fact, Edward felt himself suddenly overcome with an ill-feeling of foreboding. The morning sea was beautiful and calm, and held in her embrace a number of small offshore islands. Beyond these rushed the boiling surf, where the low waves bit at the shore and foamed white, but thereafter was misery. Edward stared at the gathering of low, square huts, seemingly built of sticks and mud, walls leaning drunkenly to the north or south of vertical, clumsily thatched and adorned with grass, or a flattering crown of corrugated iron. Behind these dwellings he could see only a forested horizon which appeared to mask a huge, roaming jungle in which nothing stirred, and whose only sound was a mournful roar of silence. As Edward clutched the rail and watched, it would have been impossible for any onlooker to have guessed to what depths of loneliness he had now sunk. He looked up into the sky and saw rain clouds beginning to form and flow through the sky like huge ships, although by now he had come to understand that, in this zone, rain was little more than a precursor of the heat to follow. Back on land there was neither a whisper, nor a sign of movement from the ragged cluster of abodes which lined the shore. A despondent Edward leaned forward and set his face towards the bottomless ocean.
Within the hour the ship had anchored off the African port of Monrovia, and the passengers and freight were being gingerly reunited with terra firma by means of a fleet of small launches. As his ill-made craft picked its leaky way through the surf, Edward noticed the fishing boats, their nets suspended from tall poles and drying in the sun before being once more thrown to the deep, and he reached the conclusion that these vessels of commerce seemed far better equipped for sea-faring than his present mode of transportation. Fortunately, the low wind merely ruffled the surface of the ocean, otherwise he was sure that both he and his boxes would have succumbed to a watery end. Once on shore, Edward clasped a handkerchief to his mouth and nose to ward off the fetid African air, but the sudden mist of mosquitoes could be combated only by his swatting them against his skin, until his forearm was decorated with a series of red blotches. Suddenly, natives and colored Americans were everywhere, anxious to greet the arrival of this new ship, and in their wake they created a veritable din. Edward examined them, particularly the natives, their semi-clad bodies ensnared by large corded muscles, but amongst their numbers he was unable to recognize any who had about them a demeanor which suggested that they might have been sent by Madison to greet him. And then the weather, being predictable in this region only in its excesses, suddenly, and without warning, changed, and the rain teemed from the skies. At moments such as this it was customary for a Christian gentleman to acknowledge that such a downpour, whilst causing inconvenience to the human being, inevitably bestowed much satisfaction and benediction upon God’s shrubbery, his crops, and his trees. However, the sudden outburst served only to irritate Edward and, following the example of others about him, he abandoned his boxes and marched with some purpose towards the shelter of an overhanging palm tree, whose branches hung limply as though they had been exhausted by the heat of many days. Edward examined the stout grey trunk, and fingered the grainy ridges which ascended as though a series of healed wounds. The rain began now to increase in volume, and Edward realized that he was effectively marooned until the wind chose to rise and blow the clouds to some other part of Africa.