his heart. He raised her to his bosom, and kissed
her tearful face again and again. The relief was so sudden, that for
an instant he forgot the strangeness of her declaration. But coming
to his senses immediately, he inquired, "How can it be that your son
passes for Mrs. Fitzgerald's son? And if it be so, why did you not
tell me of it?"

"I ought to have told you when I consented to marry you," she replied.
"But your protecting love was so precious to me, that I had not the
courage to tell you anything that would diminish your esteem for me.
Forgive me, dearest. It is the only wrong I have ever done you. But I
will tell you all now; and if it changes your love for me, I must try
to bear it, as a just punishment for the wrong I have done. You know
how Mr. Fitzgerald deserted me, and how I was stricken down when I
discovered that I was his slave. My soul almost parted from my body
during the long illness that followed. When I came to my senses, I
humbled myself to entreat Mr. Fitzgerald to emancipate me, for the
sake of our unborn child. He promised to do it, but he did not. I
was a mere wreck when my babe was born, and I had the feeling that I
should soon die. I loved the helpless little thing; and every time I
looked at him, it gave me a pang to think that he was born a slave. I
sent again and again for papers of manumission, but they never came.
I don't know whether it was mere negligence on the part of Mr.
Fitzgerald, or whether he meant to punish me for my coldness toward
him after I discovered how he had deceived me. I was weak in body, and
much humbled in spirit, after that long illness. I felt no resentment
toward him. I forgave him, and pitied his young wife. The only thing
that bound me to life was my child. I wanted to recover my strength,
that I might carry him to some part of the world where slavery could
not reach him. I was in that state, when Madame sent Mr. Duroy to tell
me Mr. Fitzgerald was in debt, and had sold me to that odious Mr.
Bruteman, whom he had always represented to me as the filthiest soul
alive. I think that incredible cruelty and that horrible danger made
me insane. My soul was in a terrible tempest of hatred and revenge. If
Mr. Fitzgerald had appeared before me, I should have stabbed him. I
never had such feelings before nor since. Unfortunately Chloe had come
to the cottage that day, with Mrs. Fitzgerald's babe, and he was lying
asleep by the side of mine. I had wild thoughts of killing