Light and darkness were in her face at once. Her eyes were bright, her brows became knitted, her foot tapped the floor. Of course it was all make-believe, this possibility, but it seemed too wonderful to think of—slavery abolished, and through her; and Kingsley Bey, the renegade Englishman, the disgrace to his country, blotted out.
“Your argument is not sound in many ways,” she said at last, trying to feel her course. “We must be just before all. The whole of the fortune was not earned by slaves. Kingsley Bey’s ability and power were the original cause of its existence. Without him there would have been no fortune. Therefore, it would not be justice to give it, even indirectly, to the slaves for their cause.”
“It would be penalty—Kingsley Bey’s punishment,” said Dicky slyly.
“But I thought he was to be blotted out,” she said ironically, yet brightening, for it seemed to her that she was proving herself statesmanlike, and justifying her woman’s feelings as well.
“When he is blotted out, his fortune should go where it can remedy the evil of his life.”
“He may have been working for some good cause,” quietly put in Kingsley. “Should not that cause get the advantage of his ‘ability and power,’ as you have called it, even though he was mistaken, or perverted, or cruel? Shouldn’t an average be struck between the wrong his ‘ability and power’ did and the right that same ‘ability and power’ was intended to advance?”
She turned with admiration to Kingsley. “How well you argue—I remember you did years ago. I hate slavery and despise and hate slave-dealers and slave-keepers, but I would be just, too, even to Kingsley Bey. But what cause, save his own comfort and fortune, would he be likely to serve? Do you know him?” she added eagerly.
“Since I can remember,” answered Kingsley, looking through the field-glasses at a steamer coming up the river.
“Would you have thought that he would turn out as he has?” she asked simply. “You see, he appears to me so dark and baleful a figure that I cannot quite regard him as I regard you, for instance. I could not realise knowing such a man.”
“He had always a lot of audacity,” Kingsley replied slowly, “and he certainly was a schemer in his way, but that came from his helpless poverty.”