Mrs. Eastman burst into tears.
“My dear mother!” cried Muriel, flying to her side, and folding her in her arms, while the astonished and agitated Emily also came to her.
“No matter,” said Mrs. Eastman, suddenly recovering, and gently pushing them from her, while her pale face became severe. “It was but a moment’s pain, and I am now filled with indignation. To think that Lemuel, my own brother, would join in oppressing that poor creature—oh, I cannot bear to think of it! I feel it as if it were my own sin. I am disgraced by it. Every action of his, in his pro-slavery mania, rests on me like a disgrace that I cannot bear. But this is the worst of all.”
“My dear mother,” said Harrington, approaching, and taking her hands in his, “let it all go. Fortunately, Antony has escaped from their clutches, and the worst is over. We will do nothing more about it, but let it rest in silence. You cannot help your brother’s misconduct, and are not in any way responsible for it, though I can well understand how it should grieve you.”
“It ought to be made public, John,” she answered tremulously, with the tears in her eyes, “and it would be for his good if he were taught, by the indignation of at least a portion of the people, that such things cannot be done with impunity. Heaven forgive me, if I fail in my duty, but I cannot help shrinking from the public outcry, and he my own brother.”
She covered her eyes with her hand, as Harrington sadly withdrew to his chair.
“But, look here, now,” said Wentworth, “aren’t you all too fast? There may be another brig Soliman, you know.”
“Perhaps,” replied Harrington; “but I fear not. It is unlikely, I think, that two vessels of the same name would be in the New Orleans cotton trade.”
“Who is this Driscoll, John?” asked Emily.
“Driscoll is a stevedore,” he replied, “who fell into the hold of the Soliman, last winter, as they were unlading, and broke his leg. I heard of the accident through Captain Fisher, who happened to be on the spot and knew the man, and as he had a family who were thus deprived of their means of support till he got well, I made bold to call on them, and Muriel and Mrs. Eastman took care of the poor people till Driscoll got well, and was able to work again. Of course, I recollected him, but the name of the vessel on which he met with his accident, though I knew Mr. Atkins was her owner, had slipped my mind.”