'We'se had 'nough of dis, ole man,' said a large, powerful negro (one of the drivers), stepping forward, and, regardless of the presence of Madam P—— and myself, pressing close to where the Overseer lay, now totally unconscious of what was passing around him. 'You needn't preach no more; de Cunnul hab say we'm to whip ole Moye, and we'se gwine to do it, by ——.'

I felt my fingers closing on the palm of my hand, and in a second more they would have cut the darky's profile, had not Madam P—— cried out, 'Stand back, you impudent fellow: say another word, and I'll have you whipped on the spot.'

'De Cunnul am my massa, ma'am—he say ole Moye shall be whipped, and I'se gwine to do it—shore.'

I have seen a storm at sea—I have seen the tempest tear up great trees—I have seen the lightning strike in a dark night—but I never saw anything half so grand, half so terrible, as the glance and tone of that woman as she cried out, 'Jim, take this man—give him fifty lashes this instant.'

Quicker than thought, a dozen darkies were on him. His hands and feet were tied and he was under the whipping-rack in a second. Turning then to the other negroes, the brave woman said, 'Some of you carry Moye to the house, and you, Jim, see to this man—if fifty lashes don't make him sorry, give him fifty more.'

This summary change of programme was silently acquiesced in by the assembled darkies, but many a cloudy face scowled sulkily on the octoroon, as, leaning on my arm, she followed Junius and the other negroes, who bore Moye to the mansion. It was plain that under those dark faces a fire was burning that a breath would have fanned into a flame.

We entered the house by its rear door, and placed Moye in a small room on the ground floor. He was laid on a bed, and stimulants being given him, his senses and reason shortly returned. His eyes opened, and his real position seemed suddenly to flash upon him, for he turned to Madam P——, and in a weak voice, half-choked with emotion, faltered out, 'May God in heaven bless ye, ma'am; God will bless ye for bein' so good to a wicked man like me. I doesn't desarve it, but ye woant leave me—ye woant leave me—they'll kill me ef ye do!'

'Don't fear,' said the Madam; 'you shall have a fair trial. No harm shall come to you here.'

'Thank ye, thank ye,' gasped the Overseer, raising himself on one arm, and clutching at the lady's hand, which he tried to lift to his lips.

'Don't say any more now,' said Madam P——, quietly; 'you must rest and be quiet, or you won't get well.'