IN WHICH A PLOT IS DISCLOSED, AND THE MAN-SELLER MADE TO PAY THE
PENALTY OF HIS CRIMES.
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 faade 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.