ZINA. Oh, I do not know what to say, Master D’Arneaux, you are so good to me. (_Zina rises._) If you buy me, may I have a little bed of flowers? I will take care of them when there is no work to do. D’A. All the flowers you please, little one, where you like, and your own time to work in them. ZINA. Oh, I am so glad! I forget all my misery and unhappiness when I am doing that. D’A. It is an evidence of a pure and noble heart to love the beautiful. ZINA. Please don’t tell master, but he stamps on my flowers and tells me to waste my time in the cotton field. Oh! I try so hard to please him, that he won’t order the driver to beat me! D’A. He is a brutal dog! ZINA. Please don’t say so to him. He will know I have been saying something to you (_taking bag and goes to R_). Oh, I must go now! He is so angry when I am gone too long. D’A. But he knows you are after the baggage? ZINA. And he knows I have had time to go and get back (_dropping on knees_). Oh, please buy me, Master D’Arneaux, I am so unhappy now! I will work so hard to get your money back. D’A. (_Brushing hair from forehead._) Dry the tears, little one, I will see what I can do for you. ZINA. Oh, you will try, won’t you, Master D’Arneaux? I am so fearful that I shall be sold to some traders tomorrow. (_Seizes and passionately kisses D’A.’s hand, Zina rises slowly, covering face, then hurries out R._) D’A. I _will_ try (_looking after her_)! That was a rash promise. What if he shall demand more than I have? That would sweep my mother’s comforts away (_overcome_). My God! Can it be right that such innocence should be given to the mercy of such brutes? If this system is divine, it is _not_ divine that devils should own or handle it. If in the coming conflict I shall fall, what next? Poor Cora, when I told her my duty was at the front, and I trusted my mother to her care, that look of agony I shall never forget, as she gathered her babies to her heart and said: “Master, I could always be a slave for you, but if you are killed, what will become of my baby boys?” It has rung in my ears like the knell of hope, _forever_ since. Poor woman! They shall never send your children to the auction block to pay a debt for me. If from shame I left her then without an answer, she shall have it today from the best of my manhood. I will free my people before I go. The land and cottage will keep my mother—Ah, I had forgotten Brightly’s mortgage! My death may send my mother to the poor-house (_thinking_). The proceeds of my last crop will clear this, or buy the girl. Heaven help me to do right! (_Exit R._) SCENE 2. _Cafe in Hotel Leon, Mobile._ MYERS _and_ BRIGHTLY _are discovered seated at a card table L. Bar rear centre._ BRIGHTLY. A fact, as said old Bob, “Cotton is king,” and a truer boast never was made. MYERS. Some idle slush that happens to suit the vanity of the cotton growers. Our roosters always strut the loudest.