make an apology.  I told him I would do so whenever I was convinced that his statement was true.  I was never more surprised than when he told me that Madame Royal was a slave.  I knew she was a quadroon, and I supposed she was a places, as so many of the quadroons are.  But now it seems that Mr. Royal bought her of her father; and he, good, easy man, neglected to manumit her.  He of course knew that by law ’the child follows the condition of the mother,’ but I suppose it did not occur to him that the daughters of so rich a man as he was could ever be slaves.  At all events, he neglected to have manumission papers drawn till it was too late; for his property had become so much involved that he no longer had a legal right to convey any of it away from creditors.”

Madame swung back and forth in the vehemence of her agitation, exclaiming, “What is to be done?  What is to be done?”

The Italian strode up and down the room, clenching his fist, and talking rapidly.  “To think of that Rosabella!” exclaimed he,—­“a girl that would grace any throne in Europe!  To think of her on the auction-stand, with a crowd of low-bred rascals staring at her, and rich libertines, like that Mr. Bruteman—­Pah!  I can’t endure to think of it.  How like a satyr he looked while he was talking to me about their being slaves.  It seems he got sight of them when they took an inventory of the furniture.  And that handsome little witch, Floracita, whom her father loved so tenderly, to think of her being bid off to some such filthy wretch!  But they sha’n’t have ’em!  They sha’n’t have ’em!  I swear I’ll shoot any man that comes to take ’em.”  He wiped the perspiration from his forehead, and rushed round like a tiger in a cage.

“My friend,” replied Madame, “they have the law on their side; and if you try to resist, you will get yourself into trouble without doing the girls any good.  I’ll tell you what we must do.  We must disguise them, and send them to the North.”

“Send them to the North!” exclaimed the Italian.  “Why, they’d no more know how to get there than a couple of kittens.”

“Then I must go with them,” replied Madame; “and they must be got out of this house before another day; for now that we know of it, we shall be watched.”

The impetuous Italian shook her hand cordially.  “You have a brave heart, Madame,” said he.  “I should rather march up to the cannon’s mouth than tell them such news as this.”

The bewildered Frenchwoman felt the same dread of the task before her; but she bravely said, “What must be done, can be done.”

After some further talk with the Signor concerning ways and means, she bade him good morning, and sat still for a moment to collect her thoughts.  She then proceeded to the apartment assigned to the orphans.  They were occupied with a piece of embroidery she had promised to sell for them.  She looked at the work, praised the exactness of the stitches and the tasteful shading of the flowers; but while she pointed out the beauties of the pattern, her hand and voice trembled.