M'Closky. Fair or foul, I'll have her—take that home with you! [Opens desk.] What's here—judgments? yes, plenty of 'em; bill of costs; account with Citizens' Bank—what's this? "Judgment, 40,000, 'Thibodeaux against Peyton,'"—surely, that is the judgment under which this estate is now advertised for sale—[takes up paper and examines it]; yes, "Thibodeaux against Peyton, 1838." Hold on! whew! this is worth taking to—in this desk the judge used to keep one paper I want—this should be it. [Reads.] "The free papers of my daughter, Zoe, registered February 4th, 1841." Why, judge, wasn't you lawyer enough to know that while a judgment stood against you it was a lien on your slaves? Zoe is your child by a quadroon slave, and you didn't free her; blood! if this is so, she's mine! this old Liverpool debt—that may cross me—if it only arrive too late—if it don't come by this mail—Hold on! this letter the old lady expects—that's it; let me only head off that letter, and Terrebonne will be sold before they can recover it. That boy and the Indian have gone down to the landing for the post-bags; they'll idle on the way as usual; my mare will take me across the swamp, and before they can reach the shed, I'll have purified them bags—ne'er a letter shall show this mail. Ha, ha!—[Calls.] Pete, you old turkey-buzzard, saddle my mare. Then, if I sink every dollar I'm worth in her purchase, I'll own that Octoroon. [Stands with his hand extended towards the house, and tableau.]
END OF THE FIRST ACT.
[ACT II.]
The Wharf—goods, boxes, and bales scattered about—a camera on stand, R.
Scudder, R., Dora, L., George and Paul discovered; Dora being photographed by Scudder, who is arranging photographic apparatus, George and Paul looking on at back.
Scud. Just turn your face a leetle this way—fix your—let's see—look here.
Dora. So?
Scud. That's right. [Puts his head under the darkening apron.] It's such a long time since I did this sort of thing, and this old machine has got so dirty and stiff, I'm afraid it won't operate. That's about right. Now don't stir.
Paul. Ugh! she look as though she war gwine to have a tooth drawed!
Scud. I've got four plates ready, in case we miss the first shot. One of them is prepared with a self-developing liquid that I've invented. I hope it will turn out better than most of my notions. Now fix yourself. Are you ready?