and night-longing to win her and
possess her, I will not refuse to cross the Atlantic for her sake; her I
will follow deep into virgin woods. Mine it shall not be to accept a
savage girl as a slave--she could not be a wife. I know no white woman
whom I love that would accompany me; but I am certain Liberty will await
me, sitting under a pine. When I call her she will come to my loghouse,
and she shall fill my arms.'

"She could not hear me speak so unmoved, and she _was_ moved. It was
right--I meant to move her. She could not answer me, nor could she look
at me. I should have been sorry if she could have done either. Her cheek
glowed as if a crimson flower through whose petals the sun shone had
cast its light upon it. On the white lid and dark lashes of her downcast
eye trembled all that is graceful in the sense of half-painful,
half-pleasing shame.

"Soon she controlled her emotion, and took all her feelings under
command. I saw she had felt insurrection, and was waking to empire. She
sat down. There was that in her face which I could read. It said, I see
the line which is my limit; nothing shall make me pass it. I feel--I
know how far I may reveal my feelings, and when I must clasp the volume.
I have advanced to a certain distance, as far as the true and sovereign
and undegraded nature of my kind permits; now here I stand rooted. My
heart may break if it is baffled; let it break. It shall never dishonour
me; it shall never dishonour my sisterhood in me. Suffering before
degradation! death before treachery!

"I, for my part, said, 'If she were poor, I would be at her feet; if she
were lowly, I would take her in my arms. Her gold and her station are
two griffins that guard her on each side. Love looks and longs, and
dares not; Passion hovers round, and is kept at bay; Truth and Devotion
are scared. There is nothing to lose in winning her, no sacrifice to
make. It is all clear gain, and therefore unimaginably difficult.'

"Difficult or not, something must be done, something must be said. I
could not, and would not, sit silent with all that beauty modestly mute
in my presence. I spoke thus, and still I spoke with calm. Quiet as my
words were, I could hear they fell in a tone distinct, round, and deep.

"'Still, I know I shall be strangely placed with that mountain nymph
Liberty. She is, I suspect, akin to that Solitude which I once wooed,
and from which I now seek a divorce. These Oreads are peculiar. They
come upon