“And suppose I do not care to part with Rocket?”
Harney winced a little, but answered carelessly,
“Money, of course, is just as good. You know how long I’ve waited. Few would have done as well.”
Yes, Hugh knew that, but Rocket was as dear to him as his right eye, and he would almost as soon have plucked out the one as sold the other.
“I have not the money,” he said frankly, “and I cannot part with Rocket. Is there nothing else? I’ll give a mortgage on Spring Bank.”
Harney did not care for a mortgage, but there was something else, and the rascally face brightened, as, stepping back, while he made the proposition, he faintly suggested “Lulu.” He would give a thousand dollars for her, and Hugh could keep his horse. For a moment the two young men regarded each other intently, Hugh’s eyes flashing gleams of fire, and his whole face expressive of the contempt he felt for the wretch who cowed at last beneath the look, and turned away muttering that “he saw nothing so very heinous in wishing to purchase a nigger wench.”
Then, changing his tone to one of defiance, he added,
“You’ll be obliged to part with her yet, Hugh Worthington. I know how you are straitened and how much you think of her. You may not have another so good a chance to provide her with a kind master. Surely, you should be satisfied with that fair-haired New York damsel, and let me have the nigger.”
Harney tried to smile, but the laugh died on his lips, as, springing to his feet, Hugh, with one blow, felled him to the floor, exclaiming,
“Thus do I resent the insult offered to Adah Hastings, as pure and true a woman as your own sister. Villain!” and he shook fiercely his prostrate foe struggling to rise.