 
WHILE the scenes which we have detailed in the foregoing chapter were being enacted at Nassau, there stood in the portico of a massive dwelling, fronting what in Charleston is called the "Battery Promenade," the tall and stately figure of a man, wrapped in a costly black cloak, the folds of which lay carelessly about his neck and shoulders. For some minutes did he stand, hesitating, and watching up and down the broad walk in front. The gas-light overhead shed its glare upon the freestone walls-for the night was dark-and, as he turned, discovered the fine features of a frank and open countenance, to which the flashing of two great intelligent eyes, a long silvery beard, and a flowing moustache, all shaded by the broad brim of a black felt hat, lent their aid to make impressive. Closer he muffled his face in the folds of his cloak, and spoke. "Time!" said he, in a voice musical and clear, "hath worn little on his great mansion; like his heart, it is of good stone." The mansion, indeed, was of princely front, with chiselled fa‡ade and great doric windows of deep fluted mouldings, grand in outline. Now a small hand stole from beneath his cloak, rapped gently upon the carved door of black walnut, and rang the bell. Soon the door swung open, and a negro in a black coat, white vest, and handkerchief of great stiffness, and nether garments of flashy stripes, politely bowed him into a hall of great splendour. Rows of statuary stood in alcoves along its sides; the walls dazzled with bright coloured paintings in massive gilt frames; highly coloured and badly blended mythological designs spread along the ceiling: the figure of a female, with pearly tears gushing from her eyes, as on bended knee she besought mercy of the winged angel perched above her, stood beside the broad stairway at the further end of the hall-strangely emblematical of the many thousand souls the man-seller had made weep in the bitterness of slavery; the softest rugs and costly Turkey carpets, with which its floor was spread, yielded lightly to the footfall, as the jetting lights of a great chandelier shed refulgence over the whole: indeed, what there lacked of taste was made up with air of opulence. The negro exhibited some surprise at the stranger's dress and manner, for he affected ease and indifference. "Is your master at leisure?" said he. "Business, or a friend?" inquired the negro, making one of his best bows, and drawing back his left foot. "Both," was the quick reply. "I, boy, am a gentleman!" "I sees dat, mas'r," rejoined the boy, accompanying his answer with another bow, and requesting the stranger's name, as he motioned him into a spacious drawing-room on the right, still more gorgeously furnished. "My name is Major Blank: your master knows my name: I would see him quickly!" again spoke the stranger, as the boy promptly disappeared to make the announcement. The heavy satin-damask curtains, of finest texture, that adorned the windows; the fresco-paintings of the walls; the elaborate gilding that here and there in bad taste relieved the cornices; the massive pictures that hung in gauze-covered frames upon the walls; the chastely designed carpets, and lolls, and rugs, with which the floor gave out its brilliancy; the costly tapestry of the curiously carved furniture that stood here and there about the room; and the soft light of a curiously constructed chandelier, suspended from the left hand of an angel in bronze, the said angel having its wings pinioned to the ceiling, its body in the attitude of descending, and its right hand gracefully raised above the globe, spreading its prismatic glows over the whole, did indeed make the scene resplendent of luxury. The man carelessly seated himself at a table that stood in the centre of the room, threw the hat he had declined yielding to the negro on the floor beside him, rested the elbow of his left arm on the table, and his head in his hand, as with the fingers of his right hand did he fret the long silvery beard that bedecked his chin, and contemplate with eager gaze the scene around him. "Yea, the man-seller hath, with his spoils of greed, gotten him a gorgeous mansion; even he liveth like a prince, his head resteth more in peace, and because he hath great wealth of crime men seek to honour him. The rich criminal hath few to fear; but hard is the fate of him who hath not the wherewith to be aught but a poor one!" he muttered to himself, as the door opened, and the well-rounded figure of Graspum whisked into the room. The negro bowed politely, and closed the door after him, as the stranger's eye flashed upon his old acquaintance, who, bedecked somewhat extravagantly, and with a forced smile on his subtle countenance, advanced rubbing his hands one over the other, making several methodical bows, to which the stranger rose, as he said, "Most happy am I to see you, Major! Major Blake, I believe, I have the pleasure of receiving?" Here the stranger interpolated by saying his name was not Blake, but Blank: the other apologised, said he was just entertaining a small but very select circle of friends; nevertheless, always chose to follow the maxim of "business before pleasure." Again he bustled about, worked his fingers with a mechanical air, frisked them through his hair, with which he covered the bald surface of his head, kept his little keen eyes leering apprehensively on what he deemed a ripe customer, whom he bid keep his seat. To an invitation to lay off his cloak the stranger replied that it was of no consequence. "A planter just locating, if I may be permitted to suggest?" enquired Graspum, taking his seat on the opposite side of the table. "No!" returned the other, emphatically; "but I have some special business in your line." The man of business, his face reddening of anxiety, rose quickly from his seat, advanced to what seemed a rosewood cabinet elaborately carved, but which was in reality an iron safe encased with ornamental wood, and from it drew forth a tin case, saying, as he returned and set it upon the table, "Lots from one to five were sold yesterday at almost fabulous prices-never was the demand for prime people better; but we have Lots (here he began to disgorge invoices) six, seven, eight, and nine left; all containing the primest of people! Yes, sir, let me assure you, the very choicest of the market." He would have the customer examine the invoices himself, and in the morning the live stock may be seen at his yard. "You cherish no evil in your breast, in opposition to the command of Him who reproved the wrong of malice; but you still cling to the sale of men, which you conceive no harm, eh, Graspum?" returned the stranger, knitting his brows, as a curl of fierce hatred set upon his lip. With an air of surprise did Graspum hesitate for a moment, and then, with a measured smile, said, "Why, Lord bless you! it would be a dishonour for a man of my celebrity in business to let a day escape without a sale; within the last ten days I have sold a thousand people, or more,—provided you throw in the old ones!" Here he again frisked his fingers, and leaned back in his chair, as his face resumed an air of satisfaction. The stranger interrupted as the man-seller was about to enquire the number and texture of the people he desired. "Graspum," said he, with significant firmness, setting his eyes upon him with intense stare,—"I want neither your men, nor your women, nor your little children; but, have you a record of souls you have sunk in the bitterness of slavery in that box"-here the stranger paused, and pointed at the box on the table-"keep it until you knock for admittance at the gates of eternity." It was not until this moment that he could bring his mind, which had been absorbed in the mysteries of man-selling, to regard the stranger in any other light than that of a customer. "Pardon me, sir!" said he, somewhat nervously, "but you speak with great familiarity." The stranger would not be considered intrusive. "Then you have forgotten me, Graspum?" exclaimed the man, with an ominous laugh. As if deeply offended at such familiarity, the man-seller shook his head rebukingly, and replied by saying he had an advantage of him not comprehensible. "Then have you sent my dearest relatives to an untimely grave, driven me from the home of my childhood, and made a hundred wretches swim a sea of sorrow; and yet you do not know me?" Indeed, the charges here recounted would have least served to aid the recognition, for they belonged only to one case among many scores that might have been enumerated. He shook his head in reply. For a minute did they,—the stranger scowling sarcastically upon his adversary (for such he now was),—gaze upon each other, until Graspum's eyes drooped and his face turned pale. "I have seen you; but at this moment cannot place you," he replied, drawing back his chair a pace. "It were well had you never known me!" was the stranger's rejoinder, spoken in significant accents, as he deliberately drew from beneath his cloak a revolver, which he laid on the table, warning his adversary that it were well he move cautiously. Graspum affects not to comprehend such importune demeanor, or conjecture what has brought him hither. Trembling in fright, and immersed in the sweat of his cowardice, he would proclaim aloud his apprehension; to which medium of salvation he makes an attempt to reach the door. But the stranger is too quick for him: "Calm your fears, Graspum," he says; "act not the child, but meet the consequences like a hero: strange is it, that you, who have sold twenty thousand souls, should shrink at the yielding up of one life!" concludes he, placing his back firmly against the door, and commanding Graspum to resume his seat. Having locked the door and placed the key in his pocket, he paced twice or thrice up and down the floor, seemingly in deep contemplation, and heaved a sigh. "Graspum!" he ejaculated, suddenly turning towards that terrified gentleman; "in that same iron chest have you another box, the same containing papers which are to me of more value than all your invoices of souls. Go! bring it hither!" Tremblingly did the man-seller obey the command, drew from the chest an antiquated box, and placed it hesitatingly upon the table. "I will get the key, if you will kindly permit me," he said, bowing, as the sweat fell from his chin upon the carpet. The stranger says it wants no key; he breaks it open with his hands. "You have long stored it with goodly papers; let us see of what they are made," said he. Here Graspum commenced drawing forth package after package of papers, the inscriptions on which were eagerly observed by the stranger's keen eye. At length there came out a package of letters, superscribed in the stranger's own hand, and directed to Hugh Marston. "How came you by these?" enquired the stranger, grasping them quickly: "Ah, Graspum, I have heard all! Never mind,—continue!" he resumed. Presently there came forth a package addressed to "Franconia M'Carstrow," some of which the stranger recognised as superscribed by his mother, others by Clotilda, for she could write when a slave. Graspum would put this last aside; but in an angry tone did the stranger demand it, as his passion had well nigh got the better of his resolution. "How the deep and damning infamy discovers itself! Ah, Graspum, for the dross of this world hast thou betrayed the innocent. Through thine emissaries has thus intercepted these letters, and felt safe in thy guilt. And still you know not who I am?" Indeed, the man-seller was too much beside himself with terror to have recognised even a near friend. "My name is Lorenzo,—he who more than twenty years ago you beguiled into crime. There is concealed beneath those papers a bond that bears on its face the secret of the many sorrows brought upon my family." "Lorenzo!" interrupted Graspum, as he let fall a package of papers, and sat aghast and trembling. "Yes," replied the other, "you cannot mistake me, though time hath laid a heavy hand upon my brow. Now is your infamy complete!" Here the stranger drew forth the identical bond we have described in the early part of our history, as being signed by Marston, at his mansion, on the night previous to Lorenzo's departure. Bidding the man-seller move not an inch, he spread the document before him, and commanded him to read the contents. This he had not resolution to do. "Graspum!" spoke Lorenzo, his countenance flushed in passion; "you can see, if you cannot read; look ye upon the words of that paper (here he traced the lines with the forefinger of his right hand as he stood over the wretched miscreant) and tell me if it be honourable to spare the life of one who would commit so foul a deed. On the night you consummated my shame, forced me to relieve you by procuring my uncle's signature to a document not then filled up, or made complete, how little did I conjecture the germs of villainy so deep in your heart as to betray the confidence I reposed in you. You, in your avarice, changed the tenor of that instrument, made the amount more than double that which I had injudiciously become indebted to you, and transcribed it in the instrument, in legal phraseology, which you made a death-warrant to my nearest and dearest relatives. Read it, miscreant! read it! Read on it sixty-two thousand dollars, the cause of your anxiety to hurry me out of the city into a foreign land. I returned to seek a sister, to relieve my uncle, to live an honourable man on that home so dear in my boyhood, so bright of that which was pleasant in the past, to make glad the hearts of my aged parents, and to receive the sweet forgiveness of those who honoured me when fortune smiled; but you have left me none of these boons-nay, you would have me again wander an outcast upon the world!" And now, as the miscreant fell tremblingly on his knees, and beseeching that mercy which he had denied so many, Lorenzo's frenzy surmounted all his resolution. With agitated hand he seized his revolver, saying, "I will go hence stained with a miscreant's blood." Another moment, and the loud shriek of the man-seller echoed forth, the sharp report of a pistol rung ominously through the mansion; and quivering to the ground fell dead a wretch who had tortured ten thousand souls, as Lorenzo disappeared and was seen no more. |
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