"I hope, Mr. Leslie," said Craig, as Cora still clung to her father, "that you will not oblige us to have recourse to violence."
"Kill me, kill me, sooner than abandon me to that man," cried Cora.
The mulatto drew a knife from his pocket and handed it to the agonized father.
"Kill her, master," he whispered; "better that than she should meet the fate of her mother."
Gerald pushed the slave from him with a gesture of horror. "No, no!" he exclaimed; "all hope is not yet lost! Between this and to-morrow surely something can be done. I will see Gilbert. We will save you. Cora, my beloved; we will save you."
Two of the men approached the father and daughter to take the Octoroon from Gerald's arms.
But Cora only clung to him more convulsively.
"Father, father!" she shrieked.
At a gesture from Craig they seized her in their arms and dragged her away.
Happily for the wretched girl, consciousness once more deserted her, and she sunk fainting in the arms of the brutal wretches whose business it was to secure her.