"I see from your manner toward Ann, that she is or was expected to be your wife."
"Yes, she was pledged to be."
"Yes, and is," I added with fervor. At this, Henry only pressed my hand tightly.
"Yet," pursued Charles, "she is taken from you."
"She is," was the brief and bitter reply.
"Now, Henry Graham, are we men? and do we submit to these things?"
"Alas!" and the words came through Henry's set teeth, "we are not men; we are only chattels, property, merchandise, slaves."
"But is it right for us to be so? I feel the high and lordly instincts of manhood within me. Must I conquer them? Must I stifle the eloquent cry of Nature in my breast? Shall I see my wife and children left behind to the mercy of a hard master, and willingly desert them simply because another man says that, in exchange for this sacrifice of happiness and hope, his daughter shall play upon Chickering's finest piano?"
Heavens! can I ever forget the princely air with which he uttered these words! His swarthy cheek glowed with a beautiful crimson, and his rich eye fairly blazed with the fire of a seven-times heated soul, whilst the thin lip curled and the fine nostril dilated, and the whole form towered supremely in the majesty of erect and perfect manhood!