His anger was terrible when he found that the fatal secret, which it had been the business of his life to conceal from Cora, was now revealed. But he still lingered, anxious to hear all.
"Toby," murmured Cora, rising from her knees; "tell me where did they bury my mother?"
"Her grave is half-hidden in the thickest depths of a wood of magnolias upon the borders of Silas Craig's plantation. I carved a rustic cross and placed it at the head."
"You will conduct me to the spot, Toby?" asked Cora.
At this moment Gerald Leslie rushed forward, and, springing toward Toby, lifted his riding-whip as if about to strike the mulatto, when Cora flung herself between them.
"Strike me rather than him!" she exclaimed; then turning to the slave, she said quietly, "Go, Toby! I swear to you that while I live none shall harm so much as a hair of your head."
The mulatto lingered for a moment, looking imploringly at Gerald Leslie.
"Forgive me, master, if I have spoken," he murmured pleadingly.
"I will not have you excuse yourself," said Cora; "you have only done your duty. Go!"
Toby bent his head and slowly retired. Cora stood motionless, with her arms folded, her eyes fixed upon Gerald Leslie.