hieves and counterfeits--but such as
you may go unchastised, except by the abhorrence of all honourable men. Had
you been unaware of your origin, and had the revelation of this gentleman
been as new to you as to me, you would have deserved sympathy; but you have
been acting a lie, claiming a position in society to which you knew you had
no right, and deserve execration and contempt. Did I treat you as my
feelings dictated, you would understand what is meant by the weight of a
father's anger; but I do not wish the world to know that my daughter has
been wasting her affections upon a worthless nigger; that is all that
protects you! Now, hear me," he added, fiercely,--"if ever you presume to
darken my door again, or attempt to approach my daughter, I will shoot you,
as sure as you sit there before me!"

"And serve you perfectly right!" observed George Stevens.

"Silence, sir!" rejoined Clarence, sternly. "How dare you interfere? He may
say what he likes--reproach me as he pleases--_he_ is _her_ father--I have
no other reply; but if you dare again to utter a word, I'll--" and Clarence
paused and looked about him as if in search of something with which to
enforce silence.

Feeble-looking as he was, there was an air of determination about him which
commanded acquiescence, and George Stevens did not venture upon another
observation during the interview.

"I want my daughter's letters--every line she ever wrote to you; get them
at once--I want them now," said Mr. Bates, imperatively.

"I cannot give them to you immediately, they are not accessible at present.
Does she want them?" he asked, feebly--"has she desired to have them back?"

"Never mind that!" said the old man, sternly; "no evasions. Give me the
letters!"

"To-morrow I will send them," said Clarence. "I will read them all over
once again," thought he.

"I cannot believe you," said Mr. Bates.

"I promise you upon my honour I will send them tomorrow!"

"_A nigger's honour!_" rejoined Mr. Bates, with a contemptuous sneer.
"Yes, sir--a nigger's honour!" repeated Clarence, the colour mounting to
his pale cheeks. "A few drops of negro blood in a man's reins do not
entirely deprive him of noble sentiments. 'Tis true my past concealment
does not argue in my favour.--I concealed that which was no fault of my
own, but what the injustice of society has made a crime."

"I am not here for discussion; and I suppose I must trust to your
_honour_," interrupted Mr. Bates,