Deep were the sounds of grief and mourning heard in that stately dwelling when the stricken friends, whose office it had been to nurse and soothe the weary sufferer, beheld her pale and motionless in the sleep of death.
Who can imagine the feeling with which poor Clotelle received the intelligence of her kind friend's death?
The deep gashes of the cruel whip had prostrated the lovely form of the quadroon, and she lay upon her bed of straw in the dark cell.

The speculator had brought her, but had postponed her removal till she should recover.

Her benefactress was dead, and-- "Hope withering fled, and mercy sighed farewell." "Is Jerome safe ?" she would ask herself continually.

If her lover could have but known of the sufferings of that sweet flower,--that polyanthus over which he had so often been in his dreams,--he would then have learned that she was worthy of his love.
It was more than a fortnight before the slave-trader could take his prize to more comfortable quarters.

Like Alcibiades, who defaced the images of the gods and expected to be pardoned on the ground of eccentricity, so men who abuse God's image hope to escape the vengeance of his wrath under the plea that the law sanctions their atrocious deeds..