Brown held out his hand, and grasped that of his companion.
"Friend, brother," he exclaimed, "there shall be no longer a secret between us. I will be the first to speak, light your cigar, and fill your glass, for the story I have to tell will be a long one."
It was past three o'clock, when the two men retired to rest; they had talked long and earnestly, and the reader will soon learn the purport of their conversation.
But late as they sat up overnight, the two friends breakfasted together early the next morning.
They were too much excited to sleep long.
A New Orleans paper, published that morning, lay on the breakfast table.
Smith opened the journal, and ran his eye hastily over its columns.
It contained a full account of the slave auction of the previous day.
The gold-digger's face blanched as he read the paragraph.
"Gracious Providence," he ejaculated, solemnly, "how mysterious are Thy ways! I have but come in time. Cora, the beloved daughter of Gerald Leslie, sold in the public auction room! It is too horrible!"