girl, was a
slave; within her veins a cursed drop of negro blood stained her with
dishonor, made of her a chattel; and the sneering brute she faced was
by law her master. My hands clinched in the agony of the thought, the
knowledge of my own impotence. Yet all this was but the flash of an
instant. Before I could change posture, almost before I could draw
fresh breath, her voice, trembling slightly with an emotion she was
unable wholly to suppress, yet sounding clear as a bell, addressed the
man confronting her.

"May I ask, sir, what this outrage means? I presume you are
responsible for the insolence of this fellow who brought me here?"

Kirby laughed, but not altogether at ease.

"Well, not altogether," he answered, "as his methods are entirely his
own. I merely told him to go after you."

"For what purpose?"

"So pretty a girl should not ask that. Carver, close the door, and
wait outside."

I could mark the quick rise and fall of her bosom, And the look of fear
she was unable to disguise. Yet not a limb moved as the door closed,
nor did the glance of those brown eyes waver.

"You are not the same man I met here before," she began doubtfully.
"He said he was connected with the sheriff's office. Who are you?"

"My name is Kirby; the sheriff is here under my orders."

"Kirby!--the--the gambler?"

"Well I play cards occasionally, and you have probably heard of me
before. Even if you never had until tonight, it is pretty safe to bet
that you do now. Donaldson, or his man, told you, so there is no use
of my mincing matters any, nor of your pretence at ignorance."

"I know," she admitted, "that you won this property at cards, and have
now come to take possession. Is that what you mean?"

"That, at least, is part of it," and he took a step toward her, his
thin lips twisted into a smile. "But not all. Perhaps Donaldson
failed to tell you the rest, and left me to break the news. Well, it
won't hurt me any. Not only this plantation is mine, but every nigger
on it as well. You are Rene Beaucaire?"

"Yes," she replied, slowly, almost under her breath, and hesitating
ever so slightly, "I am Rene Beaucaire."

"And you don't know what that means, I suppose?" he insisted, savagely,
angered by her coolness. "Perhaps the sheriff did not explain this.
Yet, by God! I believe you do know. Someone spread the word before we
ever got up here--that damn lawyer Haines likely enough. That is why
the others ha