Turning from the window, he fixed his eyes on his mother with a look that made her shiver.
At last he asked, in a low, stern voice, "Why did you bind me with that oath?"
"Because I foresaw some unutterable folly such as you are now manifesting."
"No," he said, in the same cold, hard tone. "It was because your cursed Confederacy was more to you than my freedom, than my manhood,—more to you than I am myself."
"O Willard! What ravings!"
"Was my father insane when he quietly insisted on his rights, yielding you yours? What right had you to cripple my life?"
"I took the only effective means to prevent you from doing just that for yourself."
"How have you succeeded?"
"I have prevented you, as a man of honor, from doing, under a gust of passion, what would spoil all my plans and hopes."
"I am not a man. You have done your best to prevent me from being one. You have bound me with a chain, and made me like one of the slaves on your plantation. Your plans and hopes? Have I no right to plans and hopes?"