M. E. Braddon

“ We both love the same woman, we both hate the same man."
Augustus laughed aloud, "You—you love Camillia Moraquitos?" he exclaimed, with consummate disdain.
"And why not?" cried the negro, striking himself upon the breast; "the heart within is of the same form, though the skin is of another color. I love her, love her, not as you white men love—but with the passionate fury of the African, which is stronger than death or fate. A jealous fever, which is close akin to hate and murder. I love her, and I know that she would look with loathing on this black face. ”

“ Deep in the bosom of that wood at Iberville, in which Gilbert Margrave and Augustus Horton had met some months before, Cora knelt with her lover beside the wooden cross, which alone marked the spot where the martyred Francilia lay.
Mournful were the tears which the freeborn Englishman and his betrothed bride wept upon the grave of the victim of slavery.
But the star of hope shone above the tomb and a prophetic whisper in the hearts of both, told of a day when the terrible institution which enables man to traffic in the body and soul of his fellow men, should be only a dark memory of the past. ”

“ Francilia! A slave! This, then, is the secret of my life. Alas! She is dead: is she not?"
"She is."
"Dead, far from her child, who was not even permitted to weep for her."
"Thank Heaven that you do not curse her memory," murmured Toby, rising.
"Curse her!" exclaimed Cora; "Would that I could embrace her, as I do you," she added, throwing her arms about the old man's neck.
"Me, Miss Cora! Me, a mulatto!" remonstrated Toby, gently repulsing her.
"What of that? Does not the same blood flow in our veins? Are we not of the same down-trodden race? Ah, speak, speak, Toby, you knew my mother ”

“ This Mexican, this nameless dependent on your father's bounty, is doubtless he for whom you scorn the proudest suitors New Orleans can offer. I should have known that a woman is never utterly indifferent to a man's attentions save when she loves another. No matter, Camillia, you will find it no trifle to brave the hatred of Augustus Horton. My rival is younger and handsomer than I; it would be hopeless to attempt to win her love while he is by to sue and be preferred; but before the year is out, I will have thrust him from my pathway as I would an insolent slave on my plantation. ”

“ Born upon the plantation of a wealthy father, the cries of beaten slaves had never disturbed her infant slumbers; for the costly mansion in which the baby heiress was reared was far from the huts of the helpless creatures who worked sometimes sixteen hours a day to swell the planter's wealth. No groans of agonized parents torn from their unconscious babes; no cries of outraged husbands, severed from their newly-wedded wives, had ever broken Adelaide's rest. She knew nothing of the slave trade; as at a very early age the planter's daughter had been sent to England for her education. ”

“ Paul, tell me, is this love a lasting one?"
"Since you know my secret," replied the Mexican, "concealment is useless. It is a lasting love—eternal as yonder blue heaven."
"Foolish boy. Then ruin and destruction will track your footsteps."
"Ruin! Through my love?"
"Yes; you have not one friend in this house, save her who now speaks to you. Camillia loves you, you will answer! Yes; but with the feeble passion of a capricious beauty, which may change with to-morrow's sun. How long, think you, will her love endure when she hears every creature in New Orleans brand you as a thief and ingrate? ”

“ She hurried from the room before Camillia could remonstrate further, and the Spanish girl, bewildered and amazed, seated herself near the table, looking musingly at the two bridal wreaths.
That night Silas Craig sat alone in the office in which was the map of America.
The lawyer had triumphed over the man who had scorned him.
He had seen Gerald Leslie's proud nature abased to the very dust, and the darling child of a doting father sold to her most deadly enemy; for the slave has no greater enemy than the hardened profligate, whose guilty passions her charms have awakened. ”

“ It was in this forest that the unhappy and martyred quadroon Francilia lay in her quiet grave—a grassy mound, marked only by the rude wooden cross erected at its head by the faithful mulatto, Toby.
Here, at least, the lovely child of an accursed and trampled race was free. Here no master dared molest her tranquil slumber. Death sets the slave and the prisoner alike at liberty.
The red sun sank in crimson splendor beneath the purple waters of the mighty river; upon every forest tree gleamed golden reflections of the dying light ”

“ Once sheltered by the dreaded flag of old England, neither North nor South dare touch a hair of your head; for if they should assail you, it would be the kindling of such a storm as would blot the stars and stripes of America from the universe."
"When a man sees a woman he loves insulted by a coward, he does not stop to reason," answered Gilbert; "the only thing that distresses me in this matter, is the thought that, instead of protecting my adored Cora, I have only brought upon her new dangers. You are the only man in America whom I call my friend. ”

“ I was not the daughter of the duchess, but a spurious child, born of low parents, and introduced into the ducal mansion by the old Parisian fortune-teller."
"Oh Heaven, how terrible!"
"It was indeed terrible. The fury of the duke knew no bounds. He was a proud man, and for seventeen years he had been duped, fooled, imposed upon by the child of some wretched Frenchwoman—the child he had introduced into the society of the noblest in the land, and whose beauty and accomplishments had been his boast. He had never loved me; there was no link of affection between us to stay the torrent of his rage. ”

“ I love a daughter of the accursed race—a slave—an Octoroon."
"What motive, then, could you have in bringing me hither?" said Camillia.
"What motive!" exclaimed the planter; "A motive far stronger than love—that motive is revenge. You have insulted me, Donna Camillia, and you have to learn that none ever yet dared to insult Augustus Horton with impunity. I threaten no terrible punishment," he added, looking at his watch; "it is now two o'clock; when the morning sun rises upon New Orleans, and the streets begin to fill with traffic, I will reconduct you to the Villa Moraquitos. ”

“ He had no reason to fear this Frenchwoman—but the strength of her indomitable will had a magnetic power over him, and his brutal nature bowed beneath its force.
"I will tell you, Silas Craig," answered Pauline; "there are some secrets which, once known, give to the person who discovers them a fearful and boundless power over the guilty wretches whom they concern. Secrets that are discovered when least the criminals fear detection. Words that are overheard, and cherished for years by the person who overhears them. Words which have power to drag the guilty to the scaffold; words that can kill. ”

“ But I know her better than she knows herself, and I am certain that, at the bottom of her heart, she cherishes a very sincere affection for Mortimer."
"How can you know what's at the bottom of my heart, when I don't know myself, aunt Lucy?" exclaimed Adelaide, impatiently; "upon my word, I think no girl was ever so cruelly used as I have been. Other people make up a marriage for me, other people tell me whom I love, when I ought to know a deal better than they do. ”

“ The Spaniard was silent for some moments, as if absorbed in thought. Then, turning to the planter, he said, gravely, "Augustus Horton, I have long foreseen this. I will freely own to you, that some time since, I cherished more ambitious views for my only child. We Spaniards are a proud race, and I once hoped that the husband of my daughter might be one of the haughty nobles of my distant native land. But that is past now," he added, with a sigh; "your rank is as high as that of any man in Louisiana. You are no penniless adventurer who seeks to enrich himself by marriage. ”

“ That was a lesson they forgot to teach me."
"Then I'm afraid you'll have to learn it here," said the planter; "and if you don't take care what you're about, it may be taught you in rather a rough fashion. But why, why, Cora, do you compel me to use this language? It is not the right of a master that I would exercise, but that of a lover."
"You forget," replied Cora, with icy coldness, "that I love, and am beloved by an honorable man, who would make me his wife."
"It is you who must forget that, Cora," answered Augustus, fiercely. "Henceforth, Gilbert Margrave and you are strangers. ”

“ She felt that he knew her secret, and the bitterness of the sneer wounded her to the heart.
"But this is not all," continued the planter; "not only do you love another, but you hate me. I ask you why this is so?"
"Shall I tell you?" she asked gravely, lifting her flashing eyes and looking him full in the face.
"Yes."
"Heaven forgive me if I wrong you, Augustus Horton, but some secret instinct tells me that you were associated with that pitiful wretch, Silas Craig, in the plot which brought disgrace upon the name of one—"
"Who is very dear to you! Is it not so, Donna Camillia?" ”

“ No! sell me rather. You may thus repair your ruined fortunes. Are you aware that one of your creditors, Augustus Horton, offered, not an hour ago, the fifty thousand dollars that you owe him as the price of your daughter's honor?"
"Oh, Heaven!" exclaimed Gerald Leslie; "all this is too terrible!" and flinging himself upon his knees at Cora's feet, he clasped her hands passionately in his own. "Cora, Cora, have pity upon me! What would you ask of me? What would you have me to do? My crime is the crime of all. Is the punishment to fall upon me alone? Am I alone to suffer? ”

“ No, beautiful as you are, I can gaze with rapture upon your gorgeous face, but it is the rapture of an artist who beholds a priceless picture in some Italian gallery. I admire, and that is all. No throb of warmer emotion disturbs the even beating of my heart. I love—but, like yourself, who have stooped to bestow your affection upon the obscure and penniless dependent of your father—I love one below me in station—below me so infinitely that even were I so weak a fool as to wish it, the laws of New Orleans would not permit me to make her my wife. ”

“ Ah, Miss Leslie! we are but strangers, newly met, within this hour; but we Creoles are the children of a southern clime, and our passions are gigantic as the palms which wave above your head—rapid in growth as the lilies on the breast of yonder lake. Love, with us, is a flame; suppressed, it is true, yet needing but one spark from the torch of beauty to cause a conflagration."
"Sir!" cried Cora, indignantly. ”

“ Augustus Horton felt that his defeat and humiliation were complete.
He had no alternative but to put the best possible face upon the matter, and he was wise enough to accept this alternative with a tolerable grace.
"Mr. Margrave," he said, "let all ill will be forgotten between us. Miss Leslie will tell you that all is fair in love as in war. We have played a desperate game for the sake of yonder lady's smiles, and I have lost. So be it. I can but submit to my defeat, and congratulate you on your superior fortune. There is my hand." ”

“ By a foul and infamous plot, the details of which I do not know, but which is doubtless worthy of the person who has concocted it, you have contrived to brand the name of Paul Lisimon with infamy. You will reveal that plot. You will withdraw that shameful accusation; and you will insert an advertisement in every paper printed in New Orleans declaring that young man's innocence. You may call your plot a practical joke if you please. You are so universally beloved and respected that you will of course be believed. That is my first condition. Do you comply with it?"
Silas Craig bent his head. ”

“ He was one of those who are born for greatness, and who, constrained by the cruel trammels of circumstances, and unable to attain their proper level, perish in the flower of youth, withered by the blighting hand of despair.
So died the poet Chatterton, a victim to the suicide's rash madness. So dies many a neglected genius, whose name is never heard by posterity.
Paul loved the heiress; loved her from the first hour in which she had soothed his boyish anguish at the loss of his patron Don Tomaso; loved her in the tranquil years of their youthful studies ”

“ The sorrows of those he loves cannot escape the eyes of poor Toby."
At this moment a light footstep sounded behind him, and Cora Leslie emerged from the pavilion.
The young girl was dressed in the thinnest white muslin, which floated round her graceful figure, aerial as some vapory cloud in the summer sky. She was pale and a mournful shadow dimmed the orient splendor of her large black eyes. She descended the marble steps slowly without perceiving the faithful slave who had risen at her approach, and who stood aside regarding her earnestly. ”

“ I shall win wealth and station, without sacrificing you or your lover. Nay, more, I promise you that the day that sees the fulfillment of my wishes, shall also see you the bride of Paul Lisimon."
"Pauline, what do you mean?"
"Seek to know nothing—only trust me. There are dark obscurities in the pathway of guilt, which I would not have you to penetrate. I have promised to befriend you in all things. What if the foul plot, which, as I believe, has been hatched by that villainous attorney, Silas Craig, were brought to light by my agency? Would you thank me for that, Camillia?" ”

“ So think twice before you use that pretty plaything, Donna Camillia," added the planter, pointing to the hilt she grasped in her hand; "think twice if you are prudent, and remember that death to-night, and in this house, is not death alone—it is disgrace!"
The young girl buried her face in her hands. She shuddered, but she did not speak.
Augustus Horton perceived that involuntary shudder, and an exclamation of triumph escaped his lips.
"Ah, proud Spanish woman, you whom the wealthiest and most aristocratic creole of New Orleans is not worthy to wed, you no longer defy me then. ”

“ The glaring eyes of the negro had so much of the fire of insanity in their savage light that the two young men thought he was indeed mad.
"Tristan, Tristan!" said Paul, imploringly.
"Beware," cried the slave, snatching a knife from his breast. "Beware how you cross my path! You are unarmed, and, strong as you are, feeble against the strength of madness. Avoid me, if you value your own safety; you, Paul Crivelli, above all others, should shun me, for I hate you. ”

“ Montresor's mansion in Grosvenor Square; sparkling eyes and glittering jewels flashed in the lamp-light; the rival queens of rank and beauty shone side by side upon the aristocratic crowd; the rich perfumes of exotic blossoms floated on the air; brave men and lovely women were met together to assist the farewell ball given by the wealthy American, Mrs. Montresor, on her departure for New Orleans with her lovely niece, Adelaide Horton, whose charming face and sprightly manners had been the admiration of all London during the season of 1860. ”

“ One of the first houses at which Gilbert Margrave presented himself was that of Augustus Horton. He found Adelaide and her aunt alone in their favorite morning room; one lounging in her rocking-chair, the other, as usual, busy at an embroidery frame.
The young creole looked very pretty in her loose and floating morning robe of India muslin, richly trimmed with Valenciennes lace and peach-colored ribbons. Her hair was arranged in clusters of short ringlets, which trembled in the summer breeze, wafted in through the Venetian blinds of the veranda. ”

“ Gerald Leslie had been standing behind the striped blinds in his apartment, which overlooked the terrace watching the meeting of his daughter and her lover.
He saw them descend the terrace steps, and the thought that Cora had readily consented to depart.
He heard the carriage wheels roll away upon the smooth gravel road, and the bitterness of his feelings utterly overcame him. "She is gone!" he exclaimed; "gone, without casting one regretful look upon the home she is leaving. She is glad to fly with this man; she loves him; she is his! Ungrateful girl! ”