“Voilà! voilà! elle vient!”
I turned mechanically at the words. Aurore was in the entrance.
Chapter Sixty One.
Bidding for my Betrothed.
Yes, Aurore appeared in the doorway of that infernal hall, and stood timidly pausing upon its threshold.
She was not alone. A mulatto girl was by her side—like herself a slave—like herself brought there to be sold!
A third individual was of the party, or rather with it; for he did not walk by the side of the girls, but in front, evidently conducting them to the place of sale. This individual was no other than Larkin, the brutal overseer.
“Come along!” said he, roughly, at the same time beckoning to Aurore and her companion: “this way, gals—foller me!”