urst pronounce it, were a spell to raise the dead. And whatever you do,
speak no more of her to your unhappy Cora; for though it is possible she
may be afraid of the police (and indeed I think that I have heard she is
in hiding), and though I know that you will laugh and not believe, yet
it is true, and proved, and known that she hears every word that people
utter in this whole, vast world; and your poor Cora is already deep
enough in her black books. She looks at me, mistress, till my blood
turns ice. That is the first I had to say; and now for the second; do,
pray, for Heaven's sake, bear in mind that you are no longer the poor
Senor's daughter. He is gone, dear gentleman; and now you are no more
than a common slave-girl like myself. The man to whom you belong calls
for you; oh, my dear mistress, go at once! With your youth and beauty,
you may still, if you are winning and obedient, secure yourself an easy
life."

For the moment I looked on the creature with the indignation you may
conceive; the next, it was gone: she did but speak after her kind, as
the bird sings or cattle bellow. "Go," said I. "Go, Cora. I thank you
for your kind intentions. Leave me alone one moment with my dead father;
and tell this man that I will come at once."

She went; and I, turning to the bed of death, addressed to those deaf
ears the last appeal and defence of my beleaguered innocence. "Father,"
I said, "it was your last thought, even in the pangs of dissolution,
that your daughter should escape disgrace. Here, at your side, I swear
to you that purpose shall be carried out; by what means, I know not; by
crime, if need be; and Heaven forgive both you and me and our
oppressors, and Heaven help my helplessness!" Thereupon I felt
strengthened as by long repose; stepped to the mirror, ay, even in that
chamber of the dead; hastily arranged my hair, refreshed my tear-worn
eyes, breathed a dumb farewell to the originator of my days and sorrows;
and, composing my features to a smile, went forth to meet my master.

He was in a great, hot bustle, reviewing that house, once ours, to which
he had but now succeeded; a corpulent, sanguine man of middle age,
sensual, vulgar, humorous, and, if I judged rightly, not ill-disposed by
nature. But the sparkle that came into his eye as he observed me enter
warned me to expect the worse.

"Is this your late mistress?" he inquired of the slaves; and, when he
had learnt it was so, instantly dismissed them. "Now