“I have that feeling very deeply fixed with regard to our Eulalia,” observed Mr. King; “and I really see no need of agitating their young, unconscious minds with subjects they are too inexperienced to understand. I will have a talk with Mrs. Fitzgerald, and then proceed to Boston.”
Mrs. Fitzgerald received the announcement with much less equanimity than she had manifested on a former occasion. Though habitually polite, she said very abruptly: “I was in hopes I should never be troubled any more with this vulgar subject. Since Mrs. King saw fit to change the children, let her take care of the one she has chosen. Of course, it would be very disagreeable to me to have a son who had been brought up among slaves. If I wished to make his acquaintance, I could not do it without exciting a great deal of remark; and there has already been too much talk about my husband’s affairs. But I have no wish to see him. I have educated a son to my own liking, and everybody says he is an elegant young man. If you would cease from telling me that there is a stain in his blood, I should never be reminded of it.”
“We thought it right to inform you of everything,” rejoined Mr. King, “and leave you to decide what was to be done.”
“Then, once for all,” said she, “please leave Gerald and me in peace; and do what you choose about the other one. We have had sufficient annoyance already; and I never wish to hear the subject mentioned again.”
“I accept your decision,” replied Mr. King. “If the unfortunate young man can be found, I will educate him and establish him in business, and do the same for him in all respects that you would have done if he had been your acknowledged heir.”
“And keep him at a distance from me,” said the perturbed lady; “for if he resembles Gerald so strongly, it would of course give rise to unpleasant inquiries and remarks.”
The gentleman bowed, wished her good morning, and departed, thinking what he had heard was a strange commentary on natural instincts.
Mr. Percival was of course greatly surprised and excited when he learned the relation which one of the fugitives in “The King Cotton” bore to Mr. Bell. “We hear a good deal about poetical justice,” said he; “but one rarely sees it meted out in this world. The hardness of the old merchant when Mr. Jackson and I called upon him was a thing to be remembered. He indorsed, with warm approbation, the declaration of the reverend gentleman who professed his willingness to send his mother or brother into slavery, if the laws of the United States required it.”