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
Emily hesitated. Her supposition concerning his mission was partly
verified in this request; but the remembrance of her last interview with
him at his office in New Orleans came like a cloud over the bright sky
of her hopes. Curiosity and a painful interest prompted her to risk the
interview. If this interview was likely to be of an unpleasant nature,
she could retire; and, if the worst she apprehended was likely to be
realized, she knew that Henry Carroll hovered near her, at all times,
like a guardian angel.
"In your legal capacity, I presume?" said she, with a smile and a
crimson face.
"Certainly, certainly," replied Maxwell, not a little disconcerted to
discover this troublesome caution.
"Will you take a seat, then? I think no one will feel an interest in our
conversation beside ourselves."
"Excuse me," replied Maxwell, in his blandest tones, "a few words of our
conversation overheard might expose persons we wish not to injure."
"Perhaps it had better be deferred to a more convenient opportunity."
"Delays are dangerous, Miss Dumont. Justice to yourself requires that my
communication be made at once. Allow me to attend you to the promenade
deck, where we shall be secure from interruption."
Emily, with many doubts, accepted his arm, and they proceeded to the
promenade deck.
"Now, Mr. Maxwell," said Emily, in a very serious tone, for she wished
to awe the profligate into the most business-like reserve, "be as speedy
as possible, for I am fearful of the effects of the night-air upon my
health."
Maxwell was disconcerted at this change in the manner of his companion,
and vexed to account for it. The remembrance of past events came to his
aid, but afforded no satisfactory solution. He could not see why Emily
should studiously reject his overtures. His experience of female society
had been of the most flattering character. He was perfectly aware of his
popularity. His personal attractions always had been a strong
recommendation, and he could not see why they should not be in this
instance. His family was good, his fortune supposed to be
respectable,--everybody did not know the inroads he had made upon it;
his business was a pastime--the gate of honor and fame. It was true his
character was dissolute, but she did not know this.
Unfortunately for him and his prospects, she did know it, and the fact
had all the weight which a virtuous mind attaches to such a
circumstance.
"I have been fortunate enough to obtain some information which may be of
great value to you, or I should not thus have intruded upon you," said
Maxwell, with the air of a man upon whom suspicion rested unjustly.
"Indeed, Mr. Maxwell!" replied Emily, forgetting both the night-air and
the character of the man who stood beside her; "pray, tell me all at
once!"
"Pardon me," replied he, coldly, "as the story is somewhat lengthy,
perhaps it might be deferred till to-morrow, if your health is likely to
suffer from exposure at this hour."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account