"Only a few days," he answered, as he lifted his mournful eyes towards mine, and I could see from their misty light, that they were dimmed by tears.
"Are you sold?" I asked.
"Oh yes," and he shuddered terribly.
I did not venture to say more; but stood looking at him, when, suddenly he turned to me, saying,
"I know that you are sold."
"Yes," I replied, with that strong sort of courage that characterized me.
"You take it calmly," he said; "have you no friends?"
"You do not talk like one familiar with slavery, to speak of a slave's having friends."
"True, true; but I have—oh, God!—a wife and children, and from them I was cruelly torn, and—and—and I saw my poor wife knocked flat upon the floor, and because I had the manhood to say that it was wrong, they tied me up and slashed me. All this is right, because my skin is darker than theirs."
What a fearful groan he gave, as he struck his breast violently.