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Updated: July 15, 2025
I watched the entrance for D'Hauteville. Why had he not arrived? My anxiety increased with the minutes. True, it would still be an hour perhaps two before her time should come. Ha! what? There was silence for a moment something of interest was going on. I looked towards the rostrum for an explanation. A dark man had climbed upon one of the steps, and was whispering to the auctioneer.
She turned away and the curtain dropped into its place; but before it had screened the view, the dark shadow of a man fell against the back wall of the room. Gayarre, no doubt! I could hold back no longer; but climbing over the garden-fence, I crept forward, followed by D'Hauteville.
Monsieur Dominique Gayarre would never suspect a passion like mine would never dream of such a purpose as the one to which that passion now impelled me. An enterprise so romantic was not within the bounds of probability. Therefore so reasoned D'Hauteville and I it was not likely Aurore would be either guarded or watched. But even though she might not be, how were we to communicate with her?
I should be the recipient of their salutations and entreaties, uttered loud enough to draw the attention of all upon me. To avoid this, I took my station behind one of the groups of white men that screened me from their notice, and kept my eyes fixed upon the entrance, watching for D'Hauteville. In him now lay my last and only hope. I could not help noting the individuals who passed out and in.
I knew that the sale was going on; and, by the frequent strokes of the hammer, I could tell that it was rapidly progressing. Although but some half-dozen of the slaves had yet been disposed of, I could not help fancying that they were galloping down the list, and that her turn would soon come too soon. With the fancy my heart beat quicker and wilder. Surely D'Hauteville will not disappoint me!
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