"He shall marry who he likes; and if Marie changes her mind, and revenges herself on this American by taking Lord Scoutbush, all I can say is, it will be a just judgment on him. I have no patience with the heartless fellow, going off thus, and never even leaving his address." "And because you have no patience, you think Marie will have none?" "What do you know about women's hearts? Leave us to mind our own matters." "Mr. Bowie will kill you outright, if your plot succeeds." "No, he won't. I know who Bowie wants to marry; and if he is not good, he shan't have her. Besides, it will be such fun to spite old Lady Knockdown, who always turns up her nose at me. How mad she will be! Here we are at home. Now, I shall go and prepare Marie." An hour after, Scoutbush was pleading his cause with Marie; and had been met, of course, at starting, with the simple rejoinder,-- "But, my lord, you would not surely have me marry where I do not love?" "Oh, of course not; but, you see, people very often get love after they are married:--and I am sure I would do all to make you love me. I know I can't bribe you by promising you carriages and jewels, and all that:--but you should have what you would like--pictures and statues, and books--and all that I can buy--Oh, madam, I know I am not worthy of you--I never have had any education as you have!"-- Marie smiled a sad smile. "But I would learn--I know I could--for I am no fool, though I say it: I like all that sort of thing, and--and if I had you to teach me, I should care about nothing else. I have given up all my nonsense since I knew you; indeed I have--I am trying all day long to read--ever since you said something about being useful, and noble, and doing one's work:--I have never forgotten that, madam, and never shall; and you would find me a pleasant person to live with, I do believe. At all events, I would--oh, madam--I would be your servant, your dog--I would fetch and carry for you like a negro slave!" Marie turned pale, and rose. "Listen to me, my lord; this must end. You do not know to whom you are speaking. You talk of negro slaves. Know that you are talking to one!" Scoutbush looked at her in blank astonishment. "Madam? Excuse me: but my own eyes--" "You are not to trust them; I tell you fact." Scoutbush was silent. She misunderstood his silence: but went on steadily. "I tell you, my lord, what I expect you to keep secret: and I know that I can trust your honour." Scoutbush bowed. "And what I should never have told you, were it not my only chance of curing you of this foolish passion. I am an American slave!" "Curse them! Who dared make you a slave?" cried Scoutbush, turning as red as a game-cock. "I was born a slave. My father was a white gentleman of good family: my mother was a quadroon; and therefore I am a slave;--a negress, a runaway slave, my lord, who, if I returned to America, should be seized, and chained, and scourged, and sold.--Do you understand me?"