"Mr. Maxwell, I shall positively refuse to accompany you," said Emily, in a most decided tone. "This good woman, I doubt not, will accommodate me." "That I will," promptly responded the dame. "I am sorry, Miss Dumont, I cannot, in this instance, yield to your wishes. I must insist on your company to Vicksburg," said Maxwell, striving, by a supercilious manner, to keep down his angry passions. "By what right, sir, do you _insist_ upon it? I was not aware that you were invested with any legal control over me." "Then you are mistaken. I act upon undoubted authority." "Indeed, sir, are you my guardian?" said Emily, shuddering at the thought of the will. "Not technically a guardian. My authority is a little more definite." "I do not understand you, sir." "It is immaterial. Perhaps you had better go with me peaceably, however," said Maxwell, with a carelessness foreign to his feelings. "That, sir, I never will do alive!" replied Emily, surmising the nature of the attorney's assumed authority. "Mr. Maxwell, you have taught me to believe that you are a hardened villain, and I _command_ you, leave my presence!" The indignation of Emily was roused, and she spoke with a flashing eye, and with an imperativeness which her wrongs alone could have called to her aid. "That was very prettily done, lady; but I cannot obey. It is useless to multiply words. You _must_ go with me;" and Maxwell extended his hand. Emily recoiled from the proffered hand; her brow lowered, and her lips compressed. She regarded him with a look of ineffable scorn,--a look before which even Maxwell, penetrated, as he was, with evil purposes, quailed. "Go along, now, about your business, and don't bother the lady any more!" said the old woman, taking advantage of the momentary silence. "Miss Dumont, I once more ask you to go with me peaceably," said Maxwell, not heeding the dame's remark. "And once more I answer, _I will not_!" "I should be sorry to use compulsion. Do you forget your condition?" "I do not," replied Emily, with a tremor, but without the loss of her self-possession. "I am of the best blood of Louisiana." "But still a _slave!_" "Good gracious!" exclaimed the hostess. "I am _not_ a slave! You know this is the plot of a villain like yourself. The true will has been found." "Indeed! Is it here?" said Maxwell, with a sneer, for while he had Emily in his power he feared nothing. "No; but it shall be brought forth in due season." "Until which time you are a slave; and not only a slave, but _my_ slave," replied Maxwell, with perfect coolness, as he drew from his pocket-book the forged bill of sale.