"What are you up to, there, you nigger? I see you. If you don't come down quicker than a streak of greased lightning, I guess you'll get a bit of lead in your precious carcass that'll bring you down a sight faster than you went up. Come down, you old cuss, will you?"
The speaker was one of the men employed by the sheriff, who had crept round from the vestibule to the gardens to see if there were any doors or windows by which some of the live stock might escape.
The "live stock" is the name given to the slaves upon a plantation.
Human beings, with hearts capable of grief and affection, fidelity and love—but in the eyes of the auctioneer, mere cattle to be knocked down by his hammer to the highest bidder.
Amongst the live stock was counted Cora, the Octoroon, the lovely and accomplished daughter of Gerald Leslie, the destined bride of Gilbert Margrave.
CHAPTER XXIV.
THE SEPARATION.
All hope of escape was over. The mulatto slowly descended the ladder, muttering to the man below that he had only been making some alterations in the window shutters.
Cora Leslie re-opened her eyes to behold her father bending over her, his face almost ghastly with agitation.
The Octoroon was terrified by the pale and horror-stricken countenance. "Is it all a dream?" she murmured, passing her hand across her forehead; "speak, dearest father, what has happened?"