"Never mind, Milly," said Louis, "I'll go down to New Orleans and bring her back. Mother sha'n't do as she pleases with me, as if I were a boy, and must always be tied to her apron string. I've got some money of my own, and I mean to find Ellen if I have to look all over the country." He entered the dining room, and saw his mother seated at the tea table, looking as bland and pleasant as a Spring morning, and asked, "Where is Ellen?" The smile died from her lips, and she answered, curtly, "She is out of _your_ reach [?]. I've sold her." "But where have you sold her?" "Out of your reach, and that is all I am going to tell you." Louis, without saying another word went out to the coachman, and asked what time the cars left the station. "Ten minutes to nine." "Can you take me there in time to reach the train? I want to go to the city tonight." "Dunno, massa; my best horse is lame, and what----" "Never mind your excuse; here," said he, throwing him a dollar, "hitch up as quick as possible, and take me there without any 'buts' or 'ifs.'" "All right, massa," said Sam, grinning with delight. "I'll have you over there in short order." The carriage harnessed, Samuel found no difficulty with his horses, and reached the depot almost a half hour before the time. Louis arrived in the city after midnight, and the next day he devoted to hunting for Ellen. He searched through different slave pens, inquired of all the traders, until at last, ready to abandon his search in hopelessness, he heard of a private jail in the suburbs of the city. Nothing daunted by his failure, he found the place and Ellen also. The trader eyed him keenly, and saw from his manner that he was in earnest about having the girl. "She is not for sale in this city. Whoever buys her must give me a pledge to take her out of this city. That was the bargain I made with her mistress. She made me promise her that I would sell her to no one in the vicinity of the city. In fact, she wanted me to sell her out of the way of her son. His mother said she had dedicated him to the Blessed Virgin, and I reckon she wanted to keep him out of the way of temptation. Now what will you give me for her?" "Will you take a thousand for her?" "Now you ain't saying nothing," said the trader, shutting one eye, and spitting on the floor. "How will twelve hundred do?" "It won't do at all, not for such a fancy article as that. I'd rather keep her for myself than sell her at such a low figure. Why, just look at her! Why, she's pretty as a picture! Look at that neck, and her shoulders. See how she carries her head! And look at that splendid head of hair. Why some of our nabobs would give three thousand dollars; but I'll tell you what I'll do, I'll let you have her for two thousand dollars; fancy article is cheap at that."