e torn asunder--perhaps never to meet
more. Husband looked upon wife, brother upon sister, father upon child,
mother upon infant, with dread in the heart and agony in the eye.

It was painful to gaze upon this sorrowing group, to contemplate the
suffering, the mental anguish that spoke plainly in every face; to think
of the wrongs which one man can legally put upon another--the deep
sinful wrongs, the outrage of every human principle. Oh, it was
terribly painful to look on that picture!

It was some relief to me to know that my presence threw at least a
momentary light over its shade. Smiles chased away the sombre shadows
as I appeared, and joyous exclamations hailed me. Had I been their
saviour, I could not have met a more eager welcome.

Amidst their fervid ejaculations I could distinguish earnest appeals
that I would buy them--that I would become their master--mingled with
zealous protestations of service and devotion. Alas! they knew not how
heavily at that moment the price of one of their number lay upon my
heart.

I strove to be gay, to cheer them with words of consolation. I rather
needed to be myself consoled.

During this while my eyes were busy. I scanned the faces of all. There
was light enough glimmering from two oil-lamps to enable me to do so.
Several were young mulattoes. Upon these my glance rested, one after
the other. How my heart throbbed in this examination! It triumphed at
length. Surely there was no face there that _she_ could love? Were
they all present? Yes, all--so Scipio said; all but Aurore.

"And Aurore?" I asked; "have you heard any more of her?"

"No, mass'; 'blieve 'Rore gone to de city. She go by de road in a
carriage--not by de boat, some ob de folks say daat, I b'lieve."

This was strange enough. Taking the black aside--

"Tell me, Scipio," I asked, "has Aurore any relative among you?--any
brother, or sister, or cousin?"

"No, mass', ne'er a one. Golly, mass'! 'Rore she near white as missa
'Genie all de rest be black, or leas'wise yeller! 'Rore she quaderoom,
yeller folks all mulatto--no kin to 'Rore--no."

I was perplexed and puzzled. My former doubts came crowding back upon
me. My jealousy returned.

Scipio could not clear up the mystery. His answer to other questions
which I put to him gave me no solution to it; and I returned up-stairs
with a heart that suffered under the pressure of disappointment.

The only reflection from which I drew comfort