"Four thousand five hundred," screamed the cotton-broker.

There was no use in contending with him. He was evidently willing to
stake all his fortune upon victory.

"Going! Going! Going!" repeated the auctioneer, slowly. There was a
brief pause, during which every pulsation in Loo Loo's body seemed
to stop. Then she heard the horrible words, "Gone, for four thousand
five hundred dollars! Gone to Mr. Grossman!"

They led her to a bench at the other end of the room. She sat there,
still as a marble statue, and almost as pale. The sudden cessation
of excited hope had so stunned her, that she could not think.
Everything seemed dark and reeling round her. In a few minutes,
Mr. Grossman was at her side.

"Come, my beauty," said he. "The carriage is at the door. If you
behave yourself, you shall be treated like a queen. Come, my love!"

He attempted to take her hand, but his touch roused her from her
lethargy; and springing at him, like a wild-cat, she gave him a blow
in the face that made him stagger,--so powerful was it, in the
vehemence of her disgust and anger.

His coaxing tones changed instantly.

"We don't allow niggers to put on such airs," he said. "I'm your
master. You've got to live with me; and you may as well make up your
mind to it first as last."