"My noble boy, you have already proved that," exclaimed Gerald Leslie. "Gilbert Margrave, I am a ruined man. My journey to New York has been a useless one. I went to endeavor to raise a sum of money which would free me from my embarrassment, but I found trade in a state of convulsion from the threatened war between the North and South, and my mission failed. I have now but one hope. The house of Richardson, of Broadway, have promised, if possible, to advance the sum I require. The money is to arrive by the next steamer. But even this is a forlorn hope, for, when I left New York, dark rumors were afloat of the approaching bankruptcy of that very firm. If this should happen, I am utterly lost. I shall remain to the very last to struggle against evil fortune, but I must remain alone. Tell me then, Mr. Margrave, do you still persist in your proposal for my daughter's hand?" "Can you doubt it?" "With a perfect knowledge of her story--remembering that she is the offspring of a slave--that she is an Octoroon!" "I remember nothing but that I love her, and would have her no other than she is." "I was not mistaken in you, Gilbert Margrave," replied Mr. Leslie, with suppressed emotion, "you are a man of honor, and it is to that honor I confide. You must fly from New Orleans with Cora. We must not expose her to the violence of a populace, furious against her because of her fatal birth--because she is a slave. That word does not cause you the horror it inspires in me, yet you are no doubt aware that the condition of the child is the same as that of the mother." "But why not affranchise her?" "Affranchise her!" exclaimed Gerald Leslie. "Would the law permit me? No, I cannot purchase her freedom until she attains her thirtieth year, unless indeed I could have my motives approved by the magistrate of the parish and three-fourths of a jury. And do you think those motives would be approved at such a time as this, when the public mind is infuriated against all those who would weaken the bonds of slavery? You shudder to behold the love of a father powerless against the laws of this land. It is terrible, is it not?" "It is infamous," exclaimed Gilbert, "but what is there to be done?" "You must leave Louisiana. Your marriage can only take place in a free State, for here you cannot make Cora your wife without swearing that you have negro blood in your veins. See the British Consul, obtain from him the means of leaving in safety, and implore him to grant Cora a shelter at his house until you're ready to leave New Orleans. You can conduct her thither at daybreak to-morrow. Closely veiled, she will at that hour escape observation. To you I confide the task of preparing her for this step. You will have little difficulty in persuading her, for she loves you, and she will leave Louisiana without one pang of regret." "Nay, Mr. Leslie," said the young man; "you wrong her, believe me--" Gerald Leslie checked him by a rapid gesture.