the strange ones, it was deemed. I had sympathy for the young Creole,
but I might have felt it more profoundly under other circumstances. As
it was, my whole soul was under the influence of a stronger passion--my
love for Aurore.

"Yes--Aurore loves me!" I repeated to myself as I passed out from the
village, and faced down the Levee road.

I was mounted. Reigart, in his generous hospitality, had even made me
master of a horse--a fine animal that rose buoyantly under me, as though
he was also imbued by some noble passion.

My well-trained steed followed the path without need of guidance, and
dropping the bridle upon his neck, I left him to go at will, and pursued
the train of my reflections.

I loved this young girl--passionately and devotedly I loved her. She
loved me. She had not declared it in words, but her looks; and now and
then a slight incident--scarce more than a fleeting glance or gesture--
had convinced me that it was so.

Love taught me its own language. I needed no interpreter--no tongue to
tell I was beloved.

These reflections were pleasant, far more than pleasant; but others
followed them of a very different nature.

With whom was I in love? A slave! True, a beautiful slave--but still a
slave! How the world would laugh! how Louisiana would laugh--nay, scorn
and persecute! The very proposal to make her my wife would subject me
to derision and abuse. "What! marry a slave! 'Tis contrary to the laws
of the land!" Dared I to marry her--even were she free?--she, a
_quadroon_!--I should be hunted from the land, or shut up in one of its
prisons!

All this I knew, but not one straw cared I for it. The world's obloquy
in one scale, my love for Aurore in the other--the former weighed but a
feather.

True, I had deep regret that Aurore was a slave, but it sprang not from
that consideration. Far different was the reason of my regret. _How
was I to obtain her freedom_? That was the question that troubled me.

Up to this time I had made light of the matter. Before I knew that I
was beloved it seemed a sequence very remote. But it was now brought
nearer, and all the faculties of my mind became concentrated on that one
thought--"How was I to obtain her freedom?" Had she been an ordinary
slave, the answer would have been easy enough; for though not rich, my
fortune was still equal to the _price of a human being_!

In my eyes Aurore was priceless. Would she also appear so in the eyes
of