CHAPTER V.
A FAMILY PARTY.
Let us turn from the residence of Cora's father to the splendid mansion inhabited by the wealthy young planter, Augustus Horton, in one of the best streets of New Orleans.
It is upward of a week after the arrival of Mrs. Montresor with her two fair charges. It is a bright summer morning, and the family party are assembled in an elegantly furnished apartment opening into a cool veranda, filled with exotic plants.
Mrs. Montresor, who, even in that warm climate, is too energetic to be idle, is seated at her embroidery. Her nephew, Augustus, lolls in an easy-chair, reading the New Orleans papers, while Adelaide Horton reclines in a hammock near the open window. Mortimer Percy, with his hands in the pockets of his light trousers, and a cigar in his mouth, leans against the window, talking to his cousin.
"Say what you will, Mortimer, it is most extraordinary that Cora should not have called here since our return," exclaims Adelaide.
"But do I not tell you, my dear cousin," answered the young man, "that Mr. Leslie has taken his daughter to his country seat upon the plantation?"
"What of that?" replied Adelaide. "Mr. Leslie's villa is but half an hour's drive from New Orleans. Nothing could have been easier than for him to have brought Cora here."
At this moment a female slave entered, announcing Mr. Craig.
"Show him in," said Augustus, without raising his eyes from the newspaper he was reading.
"Silas Craig!" exclaimed Mortimer, with a shudder of disgust. "What in Heaven's name induces you to encourage the acquaintance of that man, Augustus?"
"Pshaw, Mortimer, I have none of your romantic notions. Mr. Craig is a very respectable member of society."
"Respectable! Yes; the man who makes money is respectable, no matter by what shameful means he makes it. Usurer, oppressor of the helpless, trafficker in human flesh—what matters by what hideous trade the gold is got? The yellow guineas will not sparkle less—the hollow world will not be less ready to bow to the respectable member of society."
"Fool!" cried Augustus, angrily; "Craig is here. Do you wish him to know your opinion of him?"
Mortimer shrugged his shoulders and resumed his conversation with his cousin Adelaide.
Silas Craig saluted the ladies with ceremonious politeness, and, after the first greetings, exclaimed with a face expressive of sanctimonious grief and pious horror—
"Of course, ladies, you have heard the news?"
"The news! What news?" cried Adelaide and her aunt simultaneously.
"What! Is it possible that you have not heard of Mr. Gerald Leslie's conduct? All New Orleans is ringing with the scandal."
"What scandal?"
"Ah, ladies, you may indeed well ask what scandal; for who could believe that Mr. Leslie, one of the principal planters of Louisiana, should have been guilty of such a treason against the interest of society at large?"
"Treason! Mr. Leslie! What do you mean, Mr. Craig?" exclaimed Augustus Horton.
"I mean that Gerald Leslie has been discovered within these last few days, to have educated in England the child of one of his slaves, a quadroon called Francilia; whom he sold to me some fourteen years ago. The girl has been brought up in England, where she has received the education of a princess, and it is only through her unexpected return to New Orleans that the secret has been discovered."
"Merciful Heaven!" cried Adelaide, hiding her face in her hands; "Cora a slave!"
"There was one spark of feeling, at least," muttered Mortimer, as he watched his cousin's emotion.
"Now," pursued the pitiless usurer, "according to the Louisiana law, it is criminal to teach a slave to read. What, then, must be the offense of Mr. Leslie, in sending this girl to a first-class English boarding school, and having her taught the accomplishments of a lady of the highest birth?"
"A terrible offense, indeed, Mr. Craig," said Mortimer, bitterly; "but this girl is Gerald Leslie's own daughter, is she not?"
"She is; but what of that? Born of a slave mother, she is not the less his slave."
"I understand. As a worthy member of society, then, as a Christian and a gentleman—in the sense in which we regard these things—he may send his daughter to toil sixteen hours a day on his plantation; he may hand her to his overseer to be flogged, if she is too weak (or too lazy, as it will most likely be called) to work; he may sell her, if he will, no matter to what degradation—no matter to what infamy; but let him dare to love her—let him dare to look upon her with one thrill of fatherly affection—let him attempt to elevate her mind by education, to teach her that there is a free heaven above her, where slavery cannot be—let him do this, and he has committed a crime against society and the laws of Louisiana."
"Exactly so," replied Craig, rubbing his oily hands, "I see you understand the law of the land, Mr. Percy. No wonder that Gerald Leslie is a ruined man, he has wasted a princely income on the education of this girl—this slave."
"Poor Cora!" exclaimed Adelaide.
"What, Miss Horton, did you know her?" asked Craig.
"I did, indeed," replied Adelaide, "we were educated at the same school—we were bosom friends."
"Merciful Heaven!" exclaimed Craig, sanctimoniously; "to what pollution are our daughters exposed, when the children of slaves are foisted upon society in this manner!"
"No, Mr. Craig," cried Mortimer, with, a bitter laugh; "the pollution is in the very atmosphere of a clime in which a father's first duty to society is to trample on the laws of humanity—the ties of flesh and blood."
"Hold your tongue, Mortimer," said Augustus Horton, "you know nothing of these things; Gerald Leslie has acted disgracefully, and this girl must pay the penalty of her father's folly."
"That is Louisiana justice."
"Excuse me for two or three minutes, Mr. Craig," said Augustus, rising; "I have a few words to say to my cousin. I will rejoin you almost immediately; in the meantime the ladies will amuse you. Come, Mortimer."
The young man followed his cousin, after bowing coldly to Craig. The truth of the matter was that Augustus Horton wished to get his imprudent partner out of the way, as he felt that Silas Craig would take care to spread the report of Mortimer Percy's revolutionary principles among the outraged Southerners.
Left alone with the two ladies, Silas Craig felt himself very much at a loss for conversation.
He had never married, and he was always silent and ashamed in female society. Accomplished hypocrite as he was, he trembled before the keen instincts of a woman, and felt that his real nature stood unmasked.
But on this occasion he was relieved from his embarrassment in a manner he had little expected. Just as he was preparing himself to utter some commonplace remark, a stentorian voice resounded through the vestibule without.
"Oh, you needn't announce me," said the intruder; "everybody knows me. It's old Craig, the lawyer, I want to see, and I know he's here."
A close observer might have noticed that Silas Craig's face grew considerably paler at the sound of his voice; but before he could make any remark, the owner of it had dashed into the room, banging open the door with a noise of thunder.
Well might the ladies start with an exclamation of amazement at the apparition that stood before them. The newcomer was a tall, lanky, raw-boned looking man, with long hair, which streamed in rough locks from under his fur cap. He wore a bear-skin jacket, very much the worse for bad usage, loose knicker-bocker trousers, leather gaiters, and great nailed boots; his red-striped shirt was torn and ragged, and a tattered cloak hung loosely over his shoulder. When we further add that he carried a musket under his arm, the reader will be able to understand the astonishment of Mrs. Montresor and her niece at beholding such an intruder in their elegant apartment.
If a ghost risen from the grave had stood before him, Silas Craig could scarcely have appeared more terrified than he did at the sight of this man.
"So I've found you at last, my worthy Craig, have I?" cried the stranger. "I've been over every inch of ground in New Orleans, I think, looking for you. At last somebody told me you were at Mr. Horton's. Very well, says I, here goes for Mr. Horton's, and here I am; but how is my dear Craig! You don't seem glad to see me."
"His dear Craig! Vulgar ruffian!" muttered Silas in an undertone; and then, with an effort to overcome his embarrassment, he said, "Why, as for being glad to see you, my dear Bill, of course, I'm glad; but you see—you see the truth was, I thought you were in California."
"Yes, where you sent me to dig for gold and keep out of your way. No, the climate didn't agree with me, and I didn't find any gold, though I soon spent all I took with me. So, knowing I had powerful friends in New Orleans, I thought the best thing I could do would be to come back and throw myself once more on their generosity."
Silas Craig bit his thick under lip till the blood started beneath his teeth.
"But I say, Craig," said the stranger, looking at the two astonished women, "Where's your manners? Ain't you going to introduce me to the ladies?"
"Oh, to be sure," replied Silas, with increasing embarrassment. "My dear Mrs. Montresor, my dear Miss Horton, allow me to introduce to you Mr. Bill Bowen, formerly captain of a slaver."
"Captain of a slaver!" exclaimed Adelaide.
"Don't be frightened, miss," said Bill; "your brother was one of my best customers. I've done many a bit of business in the nigger trade with him."
The young girl shuddered as she turned away from the speaker.
"I know my dress ain't quite the thing for a lady's drawing-room," he said, looking down at his ragged shirt-sleeves and clay-stained clothes, "but we'll soon set all that to rights. My friend Craig will recommend me to his tailor and lend me the money to pay his bill, if it comes to that, won't you, Craig?"
"Oh, certainly, as far as that goes, in consideration for past services."
"Yes, 'in consideration for past services,'" repeated Bill Bowen, rather significantly. "I tell you what, Mr. Craig, as you seem doing the civil to these ladies here, and as you don't seem over much to relish my company, I'll slope now, and drop in and take a bit of dinner with you at your own house by-and-by. What's your hour?"
"Six o'clock," muttered Craig, with ill-concealed vexation.
"Six o'clock. I shall be sure to be punctual," said Bill Bowen, "for I've got a pretty, sharp appetite. Good morning, ma'am. Good morning, miss," he added, nodding familiarly to the two ladies, as he strode out of the room.
"What a horrible creature!" exclaimed Mrs. Montresor. "How can you tolerate him, Mr. Craig?"
"Why, the truth is," replied Silas, "the man has been of use to me in some trifling matters of business. He has served me for a long time one way or another, and I've got used to his queer ways. He's an eccentric sort of animal, and he works all the better for being humored, so I look over his uncultivated manner."
"I would not advise you to encourage him in running after you into people's drawing-rooms," said Mrs. Montresor, pointing to the clay left by Bill Bowen's boot upon the rich colors of the Persian carpet.
Silas reddened and an angry frown contracted his sandy eyebrows.
"I'll forgive him if he ever plays me this trick again," he muttered. "You are quite right, Mrs. Montresor, Mr. William Bowen requires to be taught a lesson, and I think Silas Craig is the man to teach it to him. Pray excuse the inconvenience you have been subjected to, and permit me to wish you a good morning."
"I cannot tell you how I dislike that man!" exclaimed Adelaide, when her aunt and she were alone; "he inspires me with a disgust for which I can scarcely account. And then, again, how cruelly he spoke of Cora! Poor girl, poor girl! A slave—a slave like Myra, or Daisy or Rose, or any of our servants. The friendship between us is broken forever, and henceforth I dare not look upon her as my equal."
The iron hand of prejudice has so strangled every warmer emotion of the soul, that this girl, whose heart was naturally good and generous, was prepared to abandon forever the friend and companion of her youth, because the taint of African blood was in her veins, the brand of society was stamped against her name—because she was a slave!