CHAPTER XXXI.
"Send the girl, Minny, to me," said Mr. Delancey to Della, as she was about leaving the breakfast-table, to go to her own room, the morning after Wilkins' visit to her father.
Mr. Delancey, as was usual with him, had said not a word with regard to his interview with Wilkins, but he had thought of it deeply, and was now prepared to act.
Della flew to her room.
"Minny, dear Minny, papa wants you. He sent me for you, and I am certain something terrible is about to happen, his eyes look so strangely. I know Bernard must have come last night, as he said he would, and that is what has made papa seem so silent and angry. He wants to ask you about everything. Oh, Minny, tell him what you choose, but don't give up my precious letters-don't!"
Della sank sobbing upon a chair, and Minny, pale as a ghost, glided away, and entered the apartment where Mr. Delancey awaited her.
"So, girl, you have chosen to play the go-between for your mistress and a worthless fellow?"
Minny was silent.
"You who must know all, tell me what you know of this matter."
"Nothing, sir, dishonorable to my master or his daughter."
"No prevarication, minion. Whatever you know of, as having passed between Miss Della, and-and-this man, I wish you to state plainly here."
"I can tell you no more, sir, than you already know."
"By what means has this acquaintanceship been carried on? I know there has been no opportunity for much personal intercourse. Have you letters?"
"If I have, sir, they are the property of my young mistress, and as such, I will deliver them to no one without her consent."
"Fool! do you forget that you are my slave?"
"As such, my first duty is to the mistress you have bade me serve."
"Are the letters in your possession?"
"They are, sir; placed there for safe keeping."
"Bring me them instantly!" said Mr. Delancey, stamping his foot heavily upon the floor.
"No," said the girl, calmly folding her hands on her bosom; "whatever questions my master has to ask, I am ready to answer; but I can do no more."
"What do you mean?" cried the merchant, rising, and laying his hands upon her shoulders. "Go and do my bidding instantly. What did you confess you had them for, if you didn't expect me to get them? Any other of my negroes would have lied."
Minny's face flushed crimson.
"Your other negroes, sir, might act differently, under many circumstances, to what I would do-but," she continued, more calmly, "Miss Della taught me never to tell a falsehood, and these lips have never lied."
The merchant looked keenly at Minny for a moment, then said:-
"Do you know that if you disobey me I will use the lash? You are but a slave, if you have a paler skin. Do you hear? Either tell me where these papers can be found, or bring them to me yourself, or I will lash you till your back runs pools of blood."
"And I will bear it, sir, though you should make it run rivers. My mistress's confidence is more sacred to me than any drop of blood that circles round my heart, and I will shed it all sooner than betray her."
Mr. Delancey paused a moment, with a glance of something like admiration lighting up his cold eyes; perhaps he saw something of his own indomitable spirit in the girl's firm demeanor, and, perhaps, the thought that nature gave her a right to the possession of that spirit never entered his mind. With his anger every moment growing more intense, the merchant again laid his hand upon her arm.
"No more parleying, girl-bring me the letters."
"Never, sir."
"Dare you speak thus to me? I will have them."
"Not while it is in my power to prevent you, sir."
"Fool! Minny, slave, out of my way!"
Minny moved not a muscle.
"Do as I command you, or, by Heaven, I'll make you. Was ever such disobedience shown a master?"
Minny stood firm, but silent, her back against the door. Mr. Delancey laid his hand upon the bell-rope, and pulled it violently.
"Voltaire," said he, to the servant who answered it, "bring me the heavy whip, with the braided lash."
It was not often that Mr. Delancey punished a slave, but when he did he was very severe. In this case, pride, anger, and a feeling something like revenge, for what he deemed Minny's obstinacy, spurred him on. The refusal of the letters had made him determined to possess them, and nothing could now have turned him from his course. Reader, he was a father; and his daughter was his idol!
The servant brought the whip, laid it on the table, glanced pityingly at Minny, and went out with a shudder.
Mr. Delancey seized Minny by the arm, and pushed her on before him, until he reached an upper balcony, near the sleeping apartments of the domestics.
"Now, girl, down with you."
"No, sir; if you lash me, let me stand and bear it like a human being, not like a dog, with my face to the dust."
"Down with you, or I will knock you down! You shall take it, as would any other slave."
Minny threw back her curls, and knelt before her master.
"On your face, girl, down!"
He raised his foot, and pushed her forward on her face. She lay there, with her heavy curls falling round her like a mantle, entirely concealing the tearless, livid face.
Delancey raised his arm, and the heavy lash descended, whirring through the air, telling how fierce the hand that dealt the blow.
The tender flesh could almost be seen to quiver through the thin, light dress; but Minny moved not, uttered no moan, nor raised her head.
"How now, girl, does your spirit hold out? Will you give up the letters?"
"Never!"
Again the lash came down, and this time, across one fair, polished shoulder, gleaming out from among the curls, in her low-necked dress, was marked a braided cut, from which the blood oozed in small round drops, staining also the waist of the dress, where the lash had fallen.
"How now?"
There came no answer: Minny lay still and quiet. Again the enraged master raised the whip, and this time the strokes were a trifle lighter, but more frequent, with no power for questioning.
Della sat in her room waiting for Minny's return. Suddenly a strange sound struck upon her ear. She started, bent forward, and listened eagerly. It came again and again. She sprang to her feet, and darted like lightning down the stairs. She ran hither and thither, scarce knowing whence to trace the sound, when suddenly she met one of the servants.
"Voltaire, in Heaven's name, where are papa and Minny?"
"On the back gallery, Miss," returned the man.
With the speed of thought, Della sped through the long passages, up the stairs, and out upon the balcony. She gained the spot just as the strong arm was upraised to give another blow.
"Papa! papa! for the love of mercy, stop!"
At that sound Minny slightly raised her head, but dropped it again, and the blow came down.
Della sprang wildly forward.
"Papa! papa! what has turned you into such a demon!"
With an almost superhuman strength, she caught the whip, as it was again descending, in her own jeweled and delicate hands, wrested it from her father's grasp, and flung it over the railing into the court below.
Dropping upon her knees, she lifted the quadroon's head upon her lap. The eyes were closed, and the pallid face wore the appearance of death.
Minny had fainted.
Springing to a water-pipe, Della filled a basin, and drawing the girl tenderly upon her breast, rocked her gently, back and forth, as she bathed the blue-veined temples with the cooling fluid.