commenced by saying, "You should
remember, Sir, that there is a just God." Hoskens not understanding
Mrs. Huston, interrupted her by saying, "I does, and guess its
monstrous kind an' him to send such likely niggers for our
convenience." Mrs. Huston finding that a long course of reckless
wickedness, drunkenness, and vice, had destroyed in Hoskens every noble
impulse, left him.

Antoinette, poor girl, also seeing that there was no help for her,
became frantic. I can never forget her cries of despair, when Hoskens
gave the order for her to be taken to his house, and locked in an upper
room. On Hoskens entering the apartment, in a state of intoxication, a
fearful struggle ensued. The brave Antoinette broke loose from him,
pitched herself head foremost through the window, and fell upon the
pavement below.

Her bruised but unpolluted body was soon picked up--restoratives
brought--doctor called in; but, alas! it was too late: her pure and
noble spirit had fled away to be at rest in those realms of endless
bliss, "where the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are at
rest."

Antoinette like many other noble women who are deprived of liberty,
still

"Holds something sacred, something undefiled;
Some pledge and keepsake of their higher nature.
And, like the diamond in the dark, retains
Some quenchless gleam of the celestial light."

On Hoskens fully realizing the fact that his victim was no more, he
exclaimed "By thunder I am a used-up man!" The sudden disappointment,
and the loss of two thousand dollars, was more than he could endure: so
he drank more than ever, and in a short time died, raving mad with
delirium tremens.

The villain Slator said to Mrs. Huston, the kind lady who endeavoured
to purchase Antoinette from Hoskens, "Nobody needn't talk to me 'bout
buying them ar likely niggers, for I'm not going to sell em." "But
Mary is rather delicate," said Mrs. Huston, "and, being unaccustomed to
hard work, cannot do you much service on a plantation." "I don't want
her for the field," replied Slator, "but for another purpose." Mrs.
Huston understood what this meant, and instantly exclaimed, "Oh, but
she is your cousin!" "The devil she is!" said Slator; and added, "Do
you mean to insult me, Madam, by saying that I am related to niggers?"
"No," replied Mrs. Huston, "I do not wish to offend you, Sir. But
wasn't Mr. Slator, Mary's father, your uncle?" "Yes, I calculate he
was," said Slator; "but