His son, Louis, had just graduated, and was spending the winter at home, in just that mood of which it is said that Satan finds some mischief for idle hands to do.  Milly, who knew the wiles of the world better than Ellen, tried to keep her as much as possible out of his way; but her caution was all in vain.  She saw her child engulfed, as thousands of her race had been.

Mrs. Le Grange, when she became apprised of the condition of things, grew very angry; but, instead of venting her indignation upon the head of her offending son, she poured out the vials of her wrath upon the defenseless girl.  She made up her mind to sell her off the place, and picked the opportunity, while her son was absent, to send her to a trader’s pen in the city.  When Louis came home, he found Milly looking very sullen and distressed, and her eyes red with weeping.

“What is the matter?” said Louis.

“Matter enough,” said Milly.  “Missus done gone and sold Ellen.”

“Sold Ellen!  Why, how did that happen?”

“Why, she found out all about her, and said she should not stay on the place another day, and so she sent her down to Orleans to the nigger traders, and my heart’s most broke,” and Milly sat down, wiping her tears with her apron.

“Never mind, Milly,” said Louis, “I’ll go down to New Orleans and bring her back.  Mother sha’n’t do as she pleases with me, as if I were a boy, and must always be tied to her apron string.  I’ve got some money of my own, and I mean to find Ellen if I have to look all over the country.”

He entered the dining room, and saw his mother seated at the tea table, looking as bland and pleasant as a Spring morning, and asked, “Where is Ellen?”

The smile died from her lips, and she answered, curtly, “She is out of your reach [?].  I’ve sold her.”

“But where have you sold her?”

“Out of your reach, and that is all I am going to tell you.”

Louis, without saying another word went out to the coachman, and asked what time the cars left the station.

“Ten minutes to nine.”

“Can you take me there in time to reach the train?  I want to go to the city tonight.”

“Dunno, massa; my best horse is lame, and what——­”

“Never mind your excuse; here,” said he, throwing him a dollar, “hitch up as quick as possible, and take me there without any ‘buts’ or ‘ifs.’”

“All right, massa,” said Sam, grinning with delight.  “I’ll have you over there in short order.”

The carriage harnessed, Samuel found no difficulty with his horses, and reached the depot almost a half hour before the time.

Louis arrived in the city after midnight, and the next day he devoted to hunting for Ellen.  He searched through different slave pens, inquired of all the traders, until at last, ready to abandon his search in hopelessness, he heard of a private jail in the suburbs of the city.  Nothing daunted by his failure, he found the place and Ellen also.