, and galloped onward.

On arriving near the gate I was somewhat surprised to see two saddled
horses standing there. I instantly recognised them as the horses I had
passed on the road. They had overtaken me again while I was halted by
the bend of the river, and had arrived at the gate before me. The
saddles were now empty. The riders had gone into the house.

A black man was holding the horses. It was my old friend "Zip."

I rode up, and without dismounting addressed myself to Scipio. Who were
they who had gone in?

I was hardly surprised at the answer. My conjecture was right. They
were men of the law,--the deputy sheriff of the _parish_ and his
assistant.

It was scarce necessary to inquire their _business_. I guessed that.

I only asked Scipio the details.

Briefly Scipio gave them; at least so far as I allowed him to proceed
without interruption. A sheriff's officer was in charge of the house
and all its contents; Larkin still ruled the negro quarter, but the
slaves were all to be sold; Gayarre was back and forward; and "_Missa
'Genie am gone away_."

"Gone away! and whither?"

"Don't know, mass'r. B'lieve she gone to de city. She leab last night
in de night-time."

"And--"

I hesitated a moment till my heart should still its heavy throbbings.

"Aurore?" I interrogated with an effort.

"'Rore gone too, mass'r;--she gone long wi' Missa 'Genie."

"Aurore gone!"

"Yes, mass'r, she gone; daat's de troof."

I was astounded by the information, as well as puzzled by this
mysterious departure. Eugenie gone and in the night! Aurore gone with
her! What could it mean? Whither had they gone?

My reiterated appeal to the black threw no light upon the subject. He
was ignorant of all their movements,--ignorant of everything but what
related to the negro quarter. He had heard that himself, his wife, his
daughter,--"the leetle Chloe,"--with all their fellow-slaves, were to be
carried down to the city, and to be sold in the slave-market by auction.
They were to be taken the following day. They were already advertised.
That was all he knew. No, not all,--one other piece of information he
had in store for me. It was authentic: he had heard the "white folks"
talk of it to one another:--Larkin, Gayarre, and a "negro-trader," who
was to be concerned in this sale. It regarded the quadroon. _She was
to be sold among the rest_!

The blood boiled in my veins as the black imparted this information