"Fifteen hundred dollars bid for the Quadroon!--good housekeeper--
sempstress--fifteen hundred dollars!"
"_Two thousand_!" I called out, my voice husky with emotion. The
sudden leap over such a large sum drew the attention of the crowd upon
me. Looks, smiles, and innuendoes were freely exchanged at my expense.
I saw, or rather heeded them not. I saw Aurore, only Aurore, standing
upon the dais like a statue upon its pedestal--the type of sadness and
beauty. The sooner I could take her thence, the happier for me; and
with that object in view I had made my "bid."
"Two thousand dollars bid--two thousand--twenty-one hundred dollars--two
thousand, one, two--twenty-two hundred dollars bid--twenty-two--"
"Twenty-five hundred dollars!" I again cried out, in as firm a voice as
I could command.
"Twenty-five hundred dollars," repeated the auctioneer, in his
monotonous drawl; "twenty-five--six--you, sir? thank you! twenty-six
hundred dollars for the Quadroon--twenty-six hundred!"
"Oh God! they will go above three thousand; if they do--"
"Twenty-seven hundred dollars!" bid the fop Marigny.
"Twenty-eight hundred!" from the old Marquis.
"Twenty-eight hundred and fifty!" assented the young merchant, Moreau.
"Nine!" nodded the tall dark man who had whispered to the auctioneer.
Twenty-nine hundred dollars bid--two thousand nine hundred.
"Three thousand!" I gasped out in despair.
It was my last bid. I could go no farther.
I waited for the result, as the condemned waits for the falling of the
trap or the descent of the axe. My heart could not have endured very
long that terrible suspense. But I had not long to endure it.
"_Three thousand one hundred dollars_!--three thousand one hundred bid--
thirty-one hundred dollars--"
I cast one look upon Aurore. It was a look of hopeless despair; and
turning away, I staggered mechanically across the hall.
Before I had reached the entrance I could hear the voice of the
auctioneer, in the same prolonged drawl, calling out, "Three thousand
five hundred bid for the Quadroon girl?"