Hatchie, the Guardian Slave; or, The Heiress of Bellevue: A Tale of the Mississippi and the South-westOptic, Oliver
General
Hatchie, the Guardian Slave; or, The Heiress of Bellevue: A Tale of the Mississippi and the South-west
Optic, Oliver
African Americans -- Fiction; Enslaved persons -- United States -- Fiction
Vernon threw himself upon a sofa, as they were leaving; but no sooner
had the door closed, than he rose in haste, and left the apartment.
Reaching the veranda of the house, he met Dr. Vaudelier and Henry
Carroll, who followed him back to the drawing-room.
"This way, silently, if you please," said he, and then closed the door.
A moment sufficed to inform the new comers of the position of affairs;
then Vernon left the room, and went to the library door, which he found,
by Henry's direction. Stationing himself in a recess behind some coats,
he waited till his presence should be needed.
The meeting between Emily and her uncle was not embarrassed by any
formal greetings. Jaspar did not even raise his eyes from the floor, as
she entered. He heard the door close, and being aware by the silence of
the parties--for De Guy had judged an announcement unnecessary--that
they were ready to hear him, he said, in a gentle tone,
"Emily, I have sent for you to receive a proposition, which will finally
terminate the unfortunate circumstances that have shrouded our family in
hostility and misery."
"Indeed, uncle, I have no feeling of hostility towards you. God forbid!"
replied Emily, upon whose agitated senses Jaspar's mild words had fallen
like promises of peace.
Jaspar was astonished. He had lost much of the severity of his
disposition in the miseries which had overtaken him. He was humiliated,
his spirit broken, and he could not understand why his victim did not
upbraid him, as he expected, for the wrongs he had inflicted. A
momentary hope of reconciliation on better terms crossed his mind; but
there stood the attorney, who would permit no other compromise.
"I restore your fortune," said Jaspar, with a shudder, as he raised his
head for the first time from the floor to look upon his niece,--"I
restore it, on one condition."
"Name not the fortune, uncle; your peace and happiness are far dearer to
me than all the wealth of the world. You have wronged me, but I freely
forgive you; and Heaven will also forgive you, if you sin no more. O,
uncle, I beseech you dismiss this evil man, and let me be to you as a
daughter!"
"Let us attend to business, if you please, Mr. Dumont," said the
attorney, in a whining tone; for, it must be confessed, the conversation
had assumed a different turn from what he had anticipated.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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