"I will, I will! My father's and your good instructions shall not be lost upon me, slave though I am. _Dear_ father," said she, and the tears blinded her,--"I love his memory still, though every word of this hated will were true. I ought not to repine, whatever be my future lot. That he loved me as a daughter, I can never doubt; that he never told me I am a slave, I will forgive, for he meant it well." "I am glad to witness your Christian faith and patience in this painful event. But, Emily, had you no intimation or suspicion of this trial before?" "No, never, not the slightest," said Emily, wiping away the tears which had gathered on her cheeks. "See if you cannot call to mind some slight circumstance, which you can now recognize as such." Emily reflected a few moments, and then replied that she could not. "And your house-servants are all too young to remember as long ago as your birth?" "All but Hatchie." "Perhaps you had better send for him, and I will question him. "I will, and I pray that his knowledge may favor me." Emily sent one of the maids for Hatchie; but she returned in a few moments, accompanied by Jaspar, who, hearing her inquiries for the man his rifle-ball had sent to the other world, had come to prevent any injurious surmises. This man, Hatchie, had not escaped Jaspar's attention, in the maturing of his plot; but, as in some other of the particulars, he had trusted to the facilities of the moment for the means of silencing him. Being a man, it was not probable he could know much of the events attending the birth of Emily to his prejudice. If it should prove that he did, why, it was an easy thing to get rid of him. His rifle-ball or the slave-market were always available. But Jaspar's good fortune had smiled upon him, and he felt peculiarly happy, at this moment, in the reflection that he was out of the way, for he doubted not the object of Emily in sending for him. "Miss Emily," said Jaspar, in a tone of unwonted softness, "I am sorry to say that your father's favorite servant met with a sad mishap last night, of which I intended to have informed you before, but have not had an opportunity." Emily's cheek again blanched, as she saw all hope in this quarter cut off. "Poor Hatchie!" said she, as calmly as her excited feelings would permit. "What was it, Uncle Jaspar?" Jaspar's lip curled a little at the weakness which could feel for a slave, and he commenced the narrative he had concocted to account for the disappearance of Hatchie.