"I am ruined, Cora," answered Gerald Leslie, in a hoarse whisper. "But come the worst, we love each other. There is no dark cloud between us now. We may be penniless, but at least we are united." The reader must understand that, as yet, the Octoroon was unaware of all the miseries of her position. Educated in England--reared upon a free soil, where slavery is unknown, she never dreamt that she would be sold because of her father's insolvency. She had neither seen nor heard of a slave sale. How was she to imagine that she, delicately nurtured, tenderly beloved, was to be sold with all the other goods and chattels upon the estate? "Come the worst, dearest father," she repeated, "we will never part again." Gerald Leslie was silent. He had no power to speak. Taking his daughter by the hand, he led her down stairs into the largest apartment in the Pavilion, where Silas Craig, with the sheriff and his assistants, were assembled. The hardest heart might have been melted as the father and daughter entered the room. Cora, pale and trembling, yet lovely in her pallor, robed in white, and graceful as those lilies which seemed the best emblems of her delicate beauty. Gerald Leslie, proud, calm, and erect, although despair was stamped on every feature of his face. But the brutal nature of Silas Craig was incapable of pity; he felt only a fiendish joy in the humiliation of one who had always despised him. "I expected to see you, Mr. Craig," said Gerald, addressing the lawyer with icy contempt, "but I thought that you would come alone. May I ask why you are accompanied by these people?" "Merely as a matter of precaution," answered Silas; "I have no doubt these gentlemen will find their presence useless; for of course you are prepared to meet your engagements. You have not forgotten that this is the day that your acceptance for a hundred thousand dollars falls due. Mr. Horton has given me full power to act in his name as well as my own. Have you the money ready, my dear Mr. Leslie?" Gerald Leslie felt the sting of the mocking sneer with which these words were accompanied. "I am not yet prepared with the money," he answered; "but I have every reason to hope the New York steamer will bring the required sum before night." "It is from the house of Richardson you expect the money, I believe," said Silas Craig. "It is." "In that case I am sorry to inform you that a telegram has just reached New Orleans announcing the failure of that house." Gerald Leslie clasped his hands in silence. "Was that your only resource, Mr. Leslie?" asked Craig. Still the planter made no reply. "You see, then," continued the lawyer, "that the presence of these gentlemen is not altogether useless. You can proceed at once to business," he added, turning to the men. Cora Leslie wondered at the silent despair of her father. "Why bow your head, dearest father?" she said, "if your ruin leaves no stain upon your honor. We do not fear poverty. Let us go!"