I thanked him for the interest he had manifested in me, and passed on to Miss Jane's room. I paused one moment at the door, before turning the knob. What a variety of feelings were at work in my breast! Had I a fellow-creature's blood upon my hands? I trembled in every limb, but at length controlled myself sufficiently to enter. There sat Miss Jane, engaged at her crochet-work, and Master William playing with the balls of cotton and silk in her little basket. "Well, Ann, I trust you've got your just deserts, a good whipping," said Miss Jane, as she fixed her eyes upon me. Very calmly I related all that had occurred. Mr. Summerville sprang to his feet and rushed from the room, whilst Miss Jane set up a series of screams loud enough to reach the most distant part of the house. All my services were required to keep her from swooning, or _affecting to swoon_. The ladies from the adjoining rooms rushed in to her assistance, and were soon busy chafing her hands, rubbing her feet, and bathing her temples. "Isn't this terrible!" ejaculated one. "What _is_ the matter?" cried another. "Poor creature, she is hysterical," was the explanation of a third. I endeavored to explain the cause of Miss Jane's excitement. "You did right," said one lady, whose truly womanly spirit burst through all conventionality and restraint. "What," said one, a genuine Southern conservative, "do you say it was right for a slave to oppose and resist the punishment which her master had directed?" "Certainly not; but it was right for a female, no matter whether white or black, to resist, even to the shedding of blood, the lascivious advances of a bold libertine." "Do you believe the girl's story?" "Yes; why not?" "I don't; it bears the impress of falsehood on its very face." "No," added another Kentucky true-blue, "Mr. Monkton was going to whip her, and she resisted him. That's the correct version of the story, I'll bet my life on it." To all of this aspersion upon myself, I was bound to be a silent auditor, yet ever obeying their slightest order to hand them water, cologne, &c. Is not this slavery indeed? When Mr. Summerville left the room, he hastily repaired to the bar, where he made the story known, and getting assistance, forthwith went to the cellar, Mr. Winston forming one of the party of investigation. His Southern prejudices were instantly aroused, and he was ready "to do or die" for the propogation of the "peculiar institution."