'twouldn't be uv no use. He's made up his mind to hev th' gal, an' hev
har he will. He's come all th' way from Orleans ter make sure uv it.'

'But, Larkin, you've a heart under your waistcoat; _you_ won't lend
yourself to the designs of such a consummate scoundrel as Hallet!'

'Scoundrel's a hard word, Mr. Kirke. 'Tain't used much round yere; when
it ar, it draws blood like a lancet.'

'I mean no offence to you, Larkin; but it's true--I will prove it;' and
I went on to detail my early acquaintance with Hallet; his vast
profession and small performance of piety; his betrayal of Frank's
mother; his treatment of his son, and all the damning record I have
spread before the reader.

As I talked, Larkin rose, and walked the room, evidently affected; but,
when I concluded, he said:

''Tain't no use, Mr. Kirke; I'd ruther ye wouldn't say no more. It makes
me feel like the cholera. An' 'tain't no use! I've _got_ ter buy th'
gal.'

'You have _not_ got to buy her! You need only go away. I will give you a
thousand dollars, if you will go at once.'

'No, no, Mr. Kirke; I karn't do it. I'd like ter 'blige ye, and I need
money like th' devil; but I karn't leave Hallet in th' lurch. 'Twouldn't
be far dealin' 'tween man an' man. He trusts me ter do it, an' I'm in
with him. I _must_ act honest.'

'How _in_ with him?'

'Why, he an' ole Roye ar tergether. The' find th' money fur my
bis'ness--done it fur fifteen yar. The' git th' biggest sheer, but I
karn't help myself, I went inter cotton, like a d--d fool, 'bout a yar
ago, an' lost all I hed--every red cent; an' now I shud be on my beam
ends ef it warn't fur them.'

'Then Hallet has made his money dealing in negroes!'

'Yas, a right smart pile, in thet, an' cotton. He got me inter th' d--d
staple. I hed nigh on ter sixty thousan' then--hard rocks; but I lost it
all--every dollar--at one slap; though I reckon _he_ managed, somehow,
ter get out.'

'Yes, of course, _he_ got out, and saddled the loss upon you. Were you
such a fool as not to see that?'

'P'raps he did; but he covered his trail. He's smart; ye karn't track
_him_. But it makes no odds; I _hev_ ter keep in with him. I couldn't do
a thing, ef I didn't.'

'Yes, you could. Come North. I'll give you honest work to do.'

'You're a gentleman, Mr. Kirke, an' I'm 'bliged ter ye; but I karn't
leave yere. I've got a wife an' chil'ren, an' the' wouldn't live 'mong
ye abolitionists, nohow.'

'You have a wife and childre