One by one the other purchasers gave way, and the mulatto fell to the attorney. As the hammer of the auctioneer descended upon the desk, thus proclaiming that the bargain was complete, a singular expression illuminated the face of the slave, Toby. That expression seemed one of mingled hate and triumph; and, as he descended from the platform, the hand of the mulatto mechanically sought for some object hidden in his breast. That object was the knife with which Francilia had stabbed herself--the knife which Toby had offered the day before to Gerald Leslie. The mulatto slowly withdrew into a corner where some other slaves purchased by Silas Craig were huddled together, awaiting the termination of the sale. For some moments there was a pause. Several among the crowd asked what the next lot was to be. The voice of the auctioneer responded from his rostrum, "The Octoroon girl, Cora!" Again there was a pause. There were few there who did not know the story of Gerald Leslie and his daughter, and every one present seemed to draw a long breath. The Octoroon emerged from a group of slaves, behind whom she had been hidden, and slowly ascended the platform. Never in her happiest day--never, when surrounded by luxury, when surfeited by adulation and respect, had Cora Leslie looked more lovely than to-day. Her face was whiter than marble, her large dark eyes were shrouded beneath their dropping lids, fringed with long and silken lashes; her rich wealth of raven hair had been loosened by the rude hands of an overseer, and fell in heavy masses far below her waist; her slender yet rounded figure was set off by the soft folds of her simple cambric dress, which displayed her shoulders and arms in all their statuesque beauty. One murmur of admiration spread through the assembly as the Octoroon took her place at the table. All there had heard of the loveliness of Gerald Leslie's daughter, yet few had expected to see her so lovely. Eyeglasses were raised, spectacles put on, and looks of insolent admiration were fixed upon the unhappy girl. But she saw them not--the center of every eye, she was scarcely conscious of how much she had to endure. Her whole being was absorbed in one thought. Her father; would he come, would he rescue her? When for one brief instant she lifted her eyes, the crowd of faces swam before her, as if hidden from her by a veil of mist. The sounds of the many voices fell as confused murmurs upon her ears. She was listening for the voice which should announce to her that help was near. But that longed-for voice did not come, and she heard instead the harsh accents of the auctioneer dwelling upon the charms which were to be sold to the highest bidder. At that moment two men entered the building from opposite doors. One of these was Augustus Horton, the other Gilbert Margrave. Gerald Leslie and the engineer had passed a night of utter wretchedness.