‘And I am sure of it too, sir; but that only places their cruelty to me in a more heinous light. Forgive me for saying it, Mr Courtney, before you, who have always been so good to me and my poor father, but I will never again place myself voluntarily in the society of either Mrs Courtney or Maraquita, until they have publicly acknowledged that they have done me a foul wrong.’
‘They have been very hard on you,’ sighed the planter; ‘but their conduct cannot blind me to my duty. I cannot consent to your remaining here, Lizzie. The negroes may rise at any moment, and this bungalow is in the very midst of their quarters. I have received secret information concerning them, that has seriously alarmed me. The general disaffection has spread much further than I dreamt of, and even the hands on Beauregard are believed to be ripe for rebellion. Were they to take it into their heads to rise, what would you do?’
Lizzie laughed at the idea.
‘In that case, sir—did I believe it possible (which I can hardly do) that your coolies could so utterly forget all they owe to you—I should be much safer here than in the White House. Why should they harbour any resentment against me? They loved my dear father, and I believe they love me for his sake, and I have nothing to do with their fancied causes for complaint. If they do rise, which God forbid, it will be the White House against which they will make a raid.’
‘Ah, my dear child, long as you have lived amongst them, you do not know the negro nature as I do. Once roused, he becomes a devil, and has no power of distinguishing between friends and foes. This bungalow will be the first piece of my property which they will have the opportunity of destroying, and I feel sure they will not spare it, nor perhaps even you. Lizzie, I beg, I implore of you to accept my offer of protection, and transport yourself, and all you value, to the White House.’
But Lizzie was firm. She quailed a little before the possible picture Mr Courtney had conjured up,—before the remembrance too of certain words of Captain Norris, in which he had expressed his own fears for her safety; but they had no power to alter her determination. There was her poor prisoner in the next room to them. Guilty as he had proved himself to be, she had promised him her protection, and she would stand by him to the last, even if they were doomed to perish together. So she only shook her head, and smiled, and continued stitching at her work.
‘Your obstinacy is incredible to me,’ said Mr Courtney, half angrily, ‘and you put me in a very unpleasant position. I promised your father (as far as I could) to supply his place to you. I look on you as second only to my own child, yet you refuse to accept from me a father’s protection, or to yield me the obedience of a daughter.’
‘I am sorry to appear ungrateful to you, Mr Courtney, but I have my own reasons for remaining in my own home, and your arguments have no power to shake them. Pray don’t be under any further apprehension for me—I have none for myself; and if your workers are disposed to mutiny, it is all the more reason that I should remain amongst them, and try to bring them to a better frame of mind.’
‘Ah, I have heard of your attempts in that direction already, Lizzie, and that the coolies call you the angel of Beauregard! You are a good girl, my dear, and may God reward you for all you have done. I am only sorry that unfortuitous circumstances should have laid this burden of secrecy upon you. But cheer up; the day will come, perhaps, when it will be removed as unexpectedly as it appeared. And no one shall rejoice more when that day comes than I shall, Lizzie.’
She sighed, but she answered nothing. She knew that if the day he spoke of ever dawned, it would be to bow her benefactor’s head with shame.