Ratcliff paused at the uppermost stair on the third story. From the room came the sound of a piano-forte, with a vocal accompaniment. Clara was singing “While Thee I seek, protecting Power,”—a hymn which, though written by Helen Maria Williams when she thought herself a deist, is used by thousands of Christian congregations to interpret their highest mood of devout trust and pious resignation. As the clear, out-swelling notes fell on Ratcliff’s ears, he drew back as if a flaming sword had been waved menacingly before his face.
He walked down into the room below and waited till the music was over; then he boldly proceeded up-stairs again, knocked at the door, unlocked it, and entered. Clara looked round from turning the leaves of a music-book, rose, and bent upon her visitor a penetrating glance as if she would fathom the full depth of his intents. Ratcliff advanced and put out his hand. She did not take it, but courtesied and motioned him to a seat.
She was dressed in a flowing gauze-like robe of azure over white, appropriate to the warmth of the season. Her hair was combed back from her forehead and temples, showing the full symmetry of her head. Her lips, of a delicate coral, parted just enough to show the white perfection of her teeth. Rarely had she looked so dangerously beautiful. Ratcliff was swift to notice all these points.
Assuming that a compliment on her personal appearance could never come amiss to a woman, young or old, he said: “Upon my word, you are growing more beautiful every day, Miss Murray. I had thought there was no room for improvement. I find my mistake.”
Ratcliff looked narrowly to see if there were any expression of pleasure on her face, but it did not relax from its impenetrability.
“Will you not be seated?” he asked.
She sat down, and he followed her example. There was silence for a moment. The master felt almost embarrassed before the young girl he had so long regarded as a slave. Something like a genuine emotion began to stir in his heart as he said: “Miss Murray, you are well aware that I am the only person to whom you are entitled to look for protection and support. From an infant you have been under my charge, and I hope you will admit that I have not been ungenerous in providing for you.”
“One word, sir, at the outset, on that point,” interposed Clara. “All the expense you have been at for me shall be repaid and overpaid at once with interest. You are aware I have the means to reimburse you fully.”
“Excuse me, Miss Murray; without meaning to taunt you,—simply to set you right in your notions,—let me remark, that, being my slave, you can hold no property independent of me. All you have is legally mine.”
“How can that be, sir, when what I have is entirely out of your power; safely deposited in the vaults of Northern banks, where your claim not only is not recognized, but where you could not go to enforce it without being liable to be arrested as a traitor?”