"It is immaterial. Perhaps you had better go with me peaceably, however," said Maxwell, with a carelessness foreign to his feelings.
"That, sir, I never will do alive!" replied Emily, surmising the nature of the attorney's assumed authority. "Mr. Maxwell, you have taught me to believe that you are a hardened villain, and I command you, leave my presence!"
The indignation of Emily was roused, and she spoke with a flashing eye, and with an imperativeness which her wrongs alone could have called to her aid.
"That was very prettily done, lady; but I cannot obey. It is useless to multiply words. You must go with me;" and Maxwell extended his hand.
Emily recoiled from the proffered hand; her brow lowered, and her lips compressed. She regarded him with a look of ineffable scorn,—a look before which even Maxwell, penetrated, as he was, with evil purposes, quailed.
"Go along, now, about your business, and don't bother the lady any more!" said the old woman, taking advantage of the momentary silence.
"Miss Dumont, I once more ask you to go with me peaceably," said Maxwell, not heeding the dame's remark.
"And once more I answer, I will not!"
"I should be sorry to use compulsion. Do you forget your condition?"
"I do not," replied Emily, with a tremor, but without the loss of her self-possession. "I am of the best blood of Louisiana."