Mr. Faxon received the party with scarcely an inquiry as to the nature of the misfortune which brought them to his door. There was a person in distress, and this was all his great, sympathetic heart needed to bid him open wide his doors.
Delia Dalhousie was placed upon a bed, a negro was despatched for a physician, and every effort used to alleviate her physical and mental sufferings.
After the wants of the sufferers had been supplied, Mr. Faxon listened with horror and indignation to the tale of Dalhousie's confinement, and the causes which led to it; for the overseer was so candid as to relate all, not even omitting the bribe he had agreed to take of Jaspar.
"It is thus, Mr. Dalhousie, that our plans are defeated, when they are unworthy," said he. "Let this be a lesson to you for the future. Never do or countenance a wrong action, and, whatever befalls you in this changing world, you will have an approving conscience to smile upon you, and lighten the darkest hour of adversity. But your tale brings me consolation. There is yet hope that Miss Dumont is alive. The cruel story of her death has darkened the abode of many a warm heart, even in spite of the reflection that she was a slave. She was a true woman, and I pray that God may spare her yet many years to bless the needy and the unfortunate."
Dalhousie felt the full weight of Mr. Faxon's rebuke, and acknowledged the justice of the punishment he had received. Uncle Nathan heard with astonishment the wickedness of which the uncle of Emily had been guilty, and his simple New England heart was sorely perplexed by it. He had no "idea" of such depravity, and he was tempted, even in spite of the Scripture injunction to the contrary, to "thank God that he was not like other men."
In the course of the conversation to which the incidents of the evening had given rise, the honest farmer found an opportunity to broach the subject of his mission; and the time was occupied, until a late hour, in discussing the means of doing justice to the injured, in restoring to Bellevue its rightful mistress.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
"To do a great right, do a little wrong."
SHAKSPEARE.
Emily Dumont remained a close prisoner in the rear apartment of Maxwell's office. Dido, the old negress, was her only attendant during her incarceration; for, though the room was supplied with every luxury the most pampered appetite could desire, her confinement deserved no better name. She recognized the place, and doubted not she should be again subjected to the infamous persecution of her old enemy. She wondered that he had not already presented himself, and concluded he could not yet have returned from his up-river journey, or he would have done so. No one visited her but the negress, whose conversation, in her eagerness to serve the liberal proprietor of the office, was disgusting to her refined sensibilities. Not oven De Guy came, to give her any intimation of the nature of the fate which awaited her.