“God will defend the right, Mr. Semmes; and I advise you to range yourself on his side forthwith.” “It wouldn’t do for me to desert my client. That would be grossly unprofessional.” “Even if satisfied your client was in the wrong?” “My dear young lady, that’s just the predicament where a lawyer’s services are most needed. What can I do for you?” “Nothing, for I’m not in the wrong. My cause is that of justice and humanity. You cannot serve it.” “In that remark you wound my _amour propre_. Now let me put the case for my client: Accidentally attending an auction he buys an infant slave. He brings her up tenderly and well. He spares no expense in her education. No sooner does she reach a marriageable age, than, discarding all gratitude for his kindness, she runs away. He discovers her, and she is brought to his house. His wife dying, he proposes to marry and emancipate this ungrateful young woman. Instead of being touched by his generosity, she plots to baffle and disappoint him. Who could blame him if he were to put her up at auction to-morrow and sell her to the highest bidder?” “If you speak in sincerity, sir, then you are, morally considered, blind as an owl; if in raillery, then you are cruel as a wolf.” “My dear young lady, you show in your every remark that you are a cultivated person; that you are naturally clever, and that education has added its polish. How charming it would be to see one so gifted and accomplished placed in that position of wealth and rank which she would so well adorn! There must never be unpleasant words between me and the future Mrs. Ratcliff,—never!” “Then, sir, you’re safe, however angrily I may speak.” “Your pin-money alone, my dear young lady, will be enough to support half a dozen ordinary families.” Clara made no reply, and Semmes continued: “Think of it! First, the tour of Europe in princely style; then a return to the most splendid establishment in Louisiana!” “Well, sir, if your eloquence is exhausted, you can do me a favor.” “What is it, my dear young lady?” “Leave the room.” “Certainly. By the way, I expect Mr. Ratcliff any hour now.” “I thought he was in Fort Lafayette!” replied Clara, trying to steady her voice and conceal her agitation. “No. He succeeded in escaping. His letter is dated Richmond.” Clara made no reply, and the old lawyer passed out, muttering: “Poor little simpleton. ’T is only a freak. No woman in her senses could resist such an offer. She’ll thank me one of these days for my anæsthetic practice.” CHAPTER XXXIX. SEEING IS BELIEVING. “It is a very obvious principle, although often forgotten in the pride of prejudice and of controversy, that what has been seen _by one pair of human eyes_ is of force to countervail all that has been reasoned or guessed at by a thousand human understandings.”—_Rev. Thomas Chalmers._