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Yes, Van Dorn has been whipped by niggers, too. Will you pay my price or not?" "Tut, tut, good woman! What can I want with a white girl. It wouldn't look conservative at all in Baltimore." Patty Cannon stamped her foot. "Don't rouse me with any of your hypocritical cant, Cunnil McLane! What have you been teachin' that child to read an' write fur out of your Bible, too?
McLane retreated by the other door. "Thank heaven!" reflected Hulda, looking down in terror, "no one is murdered yet, and I have another day of grace to wait for Levin." "Cunnil McLane," said Patty Cannon, in his room that night, "what interest have you in the quadroon gal an' Huldy, too? You don't want' em both, Cunnil?" "No, Aunt Patty. All my views are conservative. Quite so!
"When do you leave for Baltimore, Cunnil McLane?" "As soon as Joe returns with my dear sister's property: to-morrow, I hope." "You can take Huldy Bruington if you pay my price for her: two thousand dollars down. If you won't give it, she shall be married to some young kidnapper, who will fetch twice that pile for her in niggers. They'll all fight their weight in black wildcats to git her."
God knows I do!" "Patty, you shock me!" the rubicund gentleman observed. "I have always found you conservative before. Now, go and send sweet Hulda here, and, for Heaven's sake, Patty, don't reveal this bargain to her." "Is it a bargain, Cunnil?" "It is, if she can be made willing to it." "That she shall, or make her bed in the forest, where good looks are not safe around yer."
His face expressed the indifference he felt to Virgie's safety on the way, and the coarse suggestion gave Patty Cannon her opportunity: "Cunnil, there's but three in the house to-night; I am one." "I am two, Patty." "And three is purty Huldy, Cunnil!" They looked at each other a few minutes in silence. "There is two to one," said Patty Cannon, with a giggle.
"Cunnil, I'll scare her most to death. She'll hide from me yer by your fire, and my voice outside the door will keep her in yer till day." McLane went to his portmanteau and unlocked it, and took out rolls of notes and a buckskin bag of gold. The yellow lustre seemed to flash in Patty Cannon's rich black eyes, like the moon overhead upon a well. "How beautiful it do shine, Cunnil!" she said.
Pay down the money, Cunnil, an' this bare room will brighten to be your wedding chamber. Pah! are you a man!" Her words aroused the visions self-love can reluctantly repulse, and which, entertained but an instant, grow irresistible.
Finally, at McLane's chamber, she knocked hard, crying: "Open, Cunnil! Here's the bashful creatur! She daren't disobey no mo'. Step out and kiss her, Cunnil!" "Ha!" said McLane, throwing open his door, out of which the full light of fire and candles gleamed, "conservative, is she? Well, let her enter!"
The black-haired woman, with a certain evil-thinking, like one reflected upon harshly, finally clapped her bold black eyes on McLane's, and replied, chuckling: "I don't know as it do, Cunnil. Before my mother pinted the way, I loved the men. I loved 'em to be bad. Mommy tuk us as we drifted.
"We have no neighbors that air not used to noises yer." The silence was restored while the two products of men-dealing read each other's countenances. "I made a very conservative and liberal proposition to her, Patty, and she insulted me, yet beautifully. But I owe her a grudge for it." "Insulted you, Cunnil? The ongrateful huzzy! Can't you insult her back? She never dared to disobey me.
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