Four or five steps up, supported by two strapping mulatto wenches, was a stout, well-fattened white woman, whom I judged, by her dress, to be the mistress of the house. The moment I set my foot upon the stairs, however, she screamed at me in a tone calculated to drown all the din below. "You can't go up, sir. The whole above-stairs is occupied by ladies; and as some of them have nought but their night-dresses on, they don't want no company." "But, my good madam," I said, "I saw two or three gentlemen amongst the ladies in the balcony." "That's nothing here nor there," answered the Amazon. "Them gentlemen have brought in friends, and have a right to stay with them." "But I have a friend here, too," I answered, "and I want to see her. I will see her, too. I think you mistake me for some of those people who have been drinking at your bar; but there you are in error. My name is Sir Richard Conway, and----" "Sir Richard this, or Sir Richard that!" cried the woman, "is no matter to me. You can't go up, so that's enough, and shouldn't if you were Lord Dunmore." "I want to speak with Miss Davenport," I replied; "to hear of her safety, and to inquire if I can serve her in any way further." "Miss Davenport!" cried the hostess, in a tone somewhat mollified. "Why, I didn't know that Bessy Davenport was here--have you seen her, Imoinda? Why, I thought she was killed in Stringer's house." "That she certainly was not," I answered, hating the great, fat, coarse woman from the bottom of my heart; "she and I escaped from Mr. Stringer's house together--I am her near relation, you know." "Oh, ay," cried the woman, still screaming at the top of her voice, in order to be heard above the din; "you are her English cousin who shot Bob Thornton. But you can't go up for all that." I felt the greatest possible inclination to take her by the back of the neck, and pitch her down amongst the mob below. But refraining with an ill grace, I said-- "I have every reason to believe that Miss Davenport was escorted here some short time ago by Colonel Halliday; but I am not sure of it, and I am determined to ascertain whether she is safe or not. So now, good woman, you shall either satisfy me on that point, or I will bring the sheriff to make you." "Good woman!" cried the hostess, with her face all in a blaze. "You saucy coon! Why do you call me 'good woman?' My husband, the colonel, shall 'good woman' you. Do you think that you English have got the dominion in the land still? No, no! I think we taught you better, when we whipped you all through the country. 'Good woman,' indeed!" "Why, surely, you would not have me call you _bad_ woman, would you?" I retorted, a good deal irritated. "But I see, I must bring some one who will be able to persuade you better than I can." And descending the two or three stairs which I had mounted, I once more forced my way through the crowd in search of the sheriff.