They all knew Valentine; with most of them he was a great favorite, though to others he was, for the sole reason of his natural superiority, very obnoxious.
While Valentine stood overwhelmed with despair, he discerned Major Hewitt among the party; and gathering some hope from the presence of that gentleman, he clasped his hands and appealing to him, said:
"Oh, Major Hewitt, you know me, sir! You have known me from childhood! Your dear lady knew me, too, and was very kind to the poor quadroon boy, when he was a child. And you know my poor little Fannie, too! Sir, my heart is breaking—that is nothing, but she is dying! Sir, my wife is dying, alone—not of the fever only, but of starvation, of thirst, of neglect, of bereavement of all aid; and she sends to me, sir—sends to pray me to come and see her poor face for the last time, and take her orphan baby from her dead arms, lest it die, too! You are powerful, Major Hewitt! Speak the word, and these gentlemen will let me pass!"
"Valentine, my poor boy, if your sorrow had not crazed you, you would understand at once that I cannot do so! But I tell you what I can do for you; I can persuade these gentlemen from detaining you in the guard-house, and I can write a note of intercession to your master. Return to him, Valentine—take my horse! There he stands; go to Mr. Waring; tell him what you have told me! Give him my note; he will not refuse you the permit, and when you have it, ride back hither as fast as you please," said the major.
He scribbled a note in haste. Valentine mounted the horse, received the missive, and, thanking the major from the depths of his heart, rode off. He met and hailed Elisha, told him in a few words what had passed, and added:
"Go on to the city, Elisha! Go to my dear Fannie! Tell her, if she can still hear your words, that I shall be with her in two hours, or die in the effort. No! do not tell her a word to alarm her! Say I will certainly be with her in two hours! For I will! despite of earth and h—ll, I will!"
Valentine galloped swiftly toward home, reached the lawn gate, sprang from his horse, secured the bridle, and hastened up to the house. There was no one in front; he entered the hall, looked into the dining-room; it was empty; he ran in, poured out a glass of brandy, drank it at a draught, and passed through the house to the back piazza, where he found his master, pacing up and down the floor. Mr. Waring had grown heated and angry between the frequent potations and the irritations of the day.
"Well, sir!" he said, turning abruptly to Valentine, "what now? How dare you enter my presence again, after your insolent conduct of this afternoon?"
"Master Oswald, I am very sorry if, in my great trouble, I was surprised into saying anything wrong. Will you read this note, sir?" said Valentine, trying, for Fannie's dear sake, to quell the raging storm in his bosom.
Oswald Waring took the note with a jerk, tore it open impatiently, and, casting his eyes over it with a scornful curl of his lip, tossed it away, exclaiming: