nd wept--wept as he never did when a child.

A half hour passed, and no one spoke. Then he rose, and said to me:

'When did you hear from her last?'

'_I_ had a letter yesterday; here it is,' said Kate. 'You see, she is
expecting you.'

He took it, and read it over slowly. All trace of his recent emotion had
gone, and on his face was an expression I had never seen there before.
For the first time I noticed his resemblance to his father!

'When will you go!' continued Kate.

'I don't know. I cannot _now_.'

'Why not _now_? What is there to prevent?'

'I must go home first. I must see Cragin.'

'Cragin does not expect you for a fortnight,' I said; 'you can be back
by that time.'

'But I _cannot_ go now!' and again he rose, and walked the room. 'I'm
not ready yet. My mind isn't made up.' After a pause, he added: 'Would
you have me marry a slave--a woman of negro blood?'

'I would have you do as your feelings and your conscience dictate.'

'You cannot love her, if you ask that question,' said Kate, kindly, but
sorrowfully.

'I _do_ love her. I love her better than man ever loved woman; but can I
make her my _wife_? A negro wife! negro children!--ha! ha!' and he
clasped his hands above his head, and laughed that bitter, hollow laugh,
which is the sure echo of fearful misery within.

'I cannot advise you, my son. You must act, _now_, on your own judgment.
I will only say, that through it all--when put at slave work--when bound
to the whipping stake--when she stood on the auction block for two long
hours--she was sustained _only_ by trust in _you_. It is true--she told
me so; and if you forsake her now, it will'----

'Kill her! I know it! I know it, O my GOD! my GOD!'
and he groaned in agony--such agony as I never before saw rend the
spirit of mortal man.

* * * * *

The next morning he started for Mobile. Ten days afterward, the
following telegram was handed me:

'Selma is dead. Frank is here, raving crazy. Come on at once.

JOSEPH PRESTON.'

* * * * *

That night I was on my way, and that day week I reached Mobile. The
first person I met, as I entered Joe's warehouse, was Larkin.

'Where is Joe?'

'Ter th' plantation. He's lookin' fur ye. I'll tote ye thar ter onst.'

In half an hour we were on the road. We arrived just before dark, and
at once I entered the mansion. Joe's hand was in mine in a moment.

'What caused this t