flirtation and philandering occupied most of my mornings,
and sometimes my evenings, in the company of this fair American.

Scandal is a goddess who reigns paramount not only in Great Britain but
also in all His Majesty's plantations; and her votaries very soon
selected me as the target of their archery. My pretty Carlotta became
jealous; she taxed me with inconstancy. I denied the charge; and, as a
proof of my innocence, she obtained from me a promise that I should go
no more to the house of her rival; but this promise I took very good
care to evade, and to break. For a whole fortnight my domestic peace
was interrupted either by tears, or by the most voluble and outrageous
solos, for I never replied after the first day.

A little female slave, one morning, made me a signal to follow her to a
retired part of the garden. I had shown this poor little creature some
acts of kindness, for which she amply repaid me. Sometimes I had
obtained for her a holiday--sometimes saved her a whipping, and at
others had given her a trifle of money; she therefore became exceedingly
attached to me, and as she saw her mistress's anger daily increase, she
knew what it would probably end in, and watched my safety like a little
guardian sylph.

"No drinkee coffee, massa," said she, "Missy putty obeah stuff in."

As soon as she said this, she disappeared, and I went into the house,
where I found Carlotta preparing the breakfast; she had an old woman
with her, who seemed to be doing something which she was not very
willing I should see. I sat down carelessly humming a tune, with my
face to a mirror, and my back to Carlotta, so that I was able to watch
her motions without her perceiving it. She was standing near the
fireplace, the coffee was by her on the table, and the old woman
crouched in the chimney-corner, with her bleared eyes fixed on the
embers. Carlotta seemed in doubt; she pressed her hands forcibly on her
forehead; took up the coffee-pot to pour me out a cup, then set it down
again; the old woman muttered something in their language; Carlotta
stamped with her little foot, and poured out the coffee. She brought it
to me--trembled as she placed it before me--seemed unwilling to let go
her hold, and her hand still grasped the cup, as if she would take it
away again. The old woman growled and muttered something, in which I
could only hear the name of her rival mentioned. This was enough: the
eyes of Carlotta lighted up like a