“I was mad then! I knew not what I did! God would not have charged me with my death! I am sane now!—sane, though most wretched!”
“Zuleime, you must die!—not in reality, but in appearance. It must be believed that you are dead—dead by your own act, as you intended. And I will provide for your escape and your future support.”
“Alas! lady, what is it you advise me to do? Deceive my poor father, so cruelly, and never, never undeceive him again? And never, never see him again?”
“Lost girl! if I had not saved you an hour ago, would you have been alive to ask the question?”
“Ah, no! But, oh, my father! Who will comfort him?”
“Who would have comforted him had you effected your purpose this hour? What would comfort him for your degradation? Foolish girl, that will console him for your supposed death, which never could console him for your fall—time. Besides, if you are supposed to be dead, it will not only save us all from shame, but your father will be your heir, and can appropriate that thirty thousand dollars to the payment of his debts. Zuleime, it seems to me you owe us all this sacrifice.”
“I—I am very weak and miserable. I—I scarcely know right from wrong! Do what you please with me, only console my father!”
“And at any rate, girl, this plan is far better than the self-destruction you meditated awhile ago. By this plan you will be able to save your child.”
“Ah! to what end? To be as miserable as its mother?”
“Zuleime! time presses. To-night you must journey to L——, and take the stage thence to Richmond. I have a negro here on whose secrecy I can depend; he shall take two horses from the stable and convey you to L—— in time to meet the Richmond stage. I will give you a letter that you must deliver to its address as soon as you reach the city. Get up now and come with me,” said Georgia, taking her hand to assist her in rising.