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"You can take a drink before you go. Steward! Ahoy there, steward!" "Yessir," said that active mulatto, springing out of his cabin. "Yessir; I hears yo', cap'n." "What'll you have?" asked Thompson, addressing the mate. Trunnell scratched his big bushy head a moment, and then suggested that a bottle of the ginger pop which the steward had in the pantry would do for him.
He read this sentence switched into the guaranty of the indenture: "Be it further understood and agreed that no negro, black man, Afro- American, mulatto, quadroon, octoroon, or any person whatsoever of colored blood or lineage, shall enter upon, seize, hold, occupy, reside upon, till, cultivate, own or possess any part or parcel of said property, or garner, cut, or harvest therefrom, any of the usufruct, timber, or emblements thereof, but shall by these presents be estopped from so doing forever."
The weariness of so long remaining in harbour was, however, a little relieved by a circumstance which took place, and which probably will make my readers imagine that my propensity for playing tricks was not quite eradicated. I lodged at a sort of hotel, kept by a mulatto woman of the name of Crissobella, as the negroes termed her, originally Christobela.
Deftly dropping her veil, she picked up a riding whip that lay on the railing and descended the stairs to the courtyard. Antoinette and I followed. As we came through the archway I saw Andre, Monsieur de St. Gre's mulatto, holding open the wicket for us to pass.
Just as you did, with the difference, of course: though the hot sun, or the perpetual foot upon his breast, does not make our black Prometheus less fierce in his agony of hope or jealousy than you, I am afraid. It was Nan, a pale mulatto house-servant, that the field-hand took into his dull, lonesome heart to make life of, with true-love defiance of caste. I think Nan liked him very truly.
“Yes,” agreed Jack. “Lead the way.” “T’ank yo’, sah; t’ank yo’, sah. Follow me, sah.” Jack’s mulatto guide led him down the street a little way, then around a corner. Here a rickety old cab with a single horse attached, waited. A gray old darkey sat on the driver’s seat. “Step right inside, sah. We’ll be dere direckly. Marse Truax’ll be powahful glad to see yo’, sah.”
He passed him by as he had passed Trail, and named another rustic at some little distance from the mulatto, then a Fifth Monarchy man, then a veteran of Cromwell's, then the plantation miller and the carpenter, then two more Oliverians, then more peasants.
Modeste's arrival at Rosembray made a certain sensation in the avenue when the carriage with the liveries of France came in sight, accompanied by the grand equerry, the colonel, Canalis, and La Briere on horseback, preceded by an outrider in full dress, and followed by six servants, among whom were the Negroes and the mulatto, and the britzka of the colonel for the two waiting-women and the luggage.
I had, however, little occasion to exert my tact in this art in the Bahama Islands, where, as in all the other islands of the West Indies, there is a class of women, born of white fathers and mustee or mulatto women, nearly approaching in complexion to the European; many of them are brunettes, with long black hair, very pretty, good eyes, and often elegant figures.
Almost at the same instant the old mulatto was also turning away from the place, dazzled and amazed at what he had heard and seen, and still dreaming of the blessings showered on the name of Saint-Ramon by the guests of this peculiar fête. "Half-past eleven," murmured the old man, as the hour struck from a distant steeple. "I shall be there at midnight and what shall I learn?
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