gentlemen, why do you not at once say, seven hundred dollars, for this uncommonly superior woman and her child? Seven hundred dollars, it is downright robbery! She would never have been sold at that price if her master had not been so unfortunate, &c. &c.”
The hammer fell heavily; the woman and her child were sold for seven hundred dollars, to one of those dark, silent figures before her. Who he was; whether he was good or bad, whether he would lead her into tolerable or intolerable slavery—of all this, the bought and sold woman and mother knew as little as I did, neither to what part of the world he would take her. And the father of her child—where was he?
With eyes still riveted upon that sleeping child, with dejected but yet submissive mien, the handsome mulatto stepped down from the auction-platform, to take her stand beside the wall, but on the opposite side of the room.
Next, a very dark, young negro girl stepped upon the platform, she wore a bright yellow handkerchief tied very daintily round her head, so that the two ends stood out like little wings, one on each side. Her figure was remarkably trim and neat, and her eyes glanced round the assembly, both boldly and inquiringly.
The auctioneer exalted her merits likewise, and then exclaimed,
“How much for this very likely young girl?”
She was soon sold, and if I recollect rightly, for three hundred and fifty dollars.
After her a young man took his place on the platform. “He was a mulatto, and had a remarkably good countenance, expressive of gentleness and refinement. He had been servant in his former master's family, had been brought up by him, was greatly beloved by him, and deserved to be so, a most excellent young man!”
He sold for six hundred dollars.
