“High! Who he? Mus’ think how people ’fraid o’ him. My Lor’! I only jes’ wish how my ole man, Tom, ’ould turn a darned etarnal fool in his ole days, and talk to me so! that’s all! ‘High!’ I say, ‘Nigger, better hit somebody, hadn’t you? Is you done tuk o’ your ole woolly head’s senses?’ ’Deed I would. Look here, Miss Ally, honey! Don’t you put up o’ that there shortness. Now Miss Elsie’s gone, he can’t spite you any way. He daren’t hit you. ’Case why? ’case the law protects you. Now, Miss Ally, I say, you take my ’vice. You jes’ pluck up a sperit and turn on him. And put a ’stonishment on to him. Jes’ you step it over him in style. Make him walk chalk. Ses you, ‘Now, you behave yourself, or I’ll unmask you afore all the world, and let people see how pretty you are underneat of your smiles.’ Lor’, Miss Ally, if men aint the easiest spil’t and a-made fools of, of all the dumb beasts as ever wore shoe leather. There’s my old man, Tom. Why, anybody’d think he was the bestest old nigger as ever said prayers. But Lor’! when we first took up ’long o’ each other, the cussed infunnally fool thought he was master; thought how he’d got a nigger of his own. Ugh—umph! I soon took him out o’ that there. I wa’nt a-goin’ to lay down on the ground and let people walk on me. Now he ’haves himself as a man ought to do. ’Twon’t do, Miss Ally, ’deed it won’t, Miss Ally! to spile men folks. Men folks ’quire to be made to know their places. ’Deed, ’fore my Heavenly Marster, they do, honey.”
Doubtless Alice would have rebuked this freedom of speech, had she heard one word of it; but she did not. She only knew that Milly was twaddling some monotonous strain of monologue, as she carried the candle before her upstairs.
Arrived within her chamber Alice dismissed her maid, refusing all refreshment, and threw herself, exhausted and anxious, upon her bed.
As the hours passed slowly away, sounds of revelry from below stairs began to reach and disturb her. As time wore on toward midnight these orgies became louder and higher. Vociferous laughter, shouting songs and thundering cheers mingled in a strange wild discord, and broke startlingly upon the aristocratic repose of that mansion and the holy quiet of that night. Alice listened in fear and trembling and disgust, for such orgies were unprecedented there.
At length, long after midnight, the company broke up in great disorder. Alice listened shudderingly to their noisy leave-taking, as with jocular songs, coarse jests, vociferous cheers and laughter, they departed. Then she heard the closing of doors and windows, and the steps of General Garnet as he moved about the house. Lastly, she heard him coming up the stairs. He entered the chamber. Alice rose to meet him.
“Oh, you are waiting to hear something about Elsie. Well, sit down,” said he, putting down the night-lamp, closing the door, and turning to her with a sarcastic smile.
Alice had sunk into a chair, faint, sickened by the sight of the demon leer that now he did not even turn to conceal.
“Well, now, what questions do you want to put to me? I am quite ready to answer any,” he said, dropping himself into a chair before her, crossing his feet, folding his arms, and leaning back.
“Elsie, then? Have you seen her?”
“No.”