Page:Cerise, a tale of the last century (IA cerisetaleoflast00whytrich).pdf/285

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which the Square, as they chose to call it, was especially devoted.

In the centre of this open space, with the saffron light of a setting sun full upon her closed eyes and contracted features, cowered poor Fleurette, naked to the waist, secured hand and foot to a strong upright post which prevented her from falling, with her wrists tied together and drawn to a level somewhat higher than her head, so that she was unable even to contract her shoulders for protection from the lash. Though her shapely dark form and bosom were thus exposed, she seemed to feel less shame than fear; but the reason was now obvious why she had shrunk with such unusual terror from her odious and degrading punishment.

Looking on with callous indifference, and holding his black book in his hand, stood Bartoletti, austerely satisfied with this public recognition of his authority, but little interested in the result, save as it affected the length of time, more or less, during which the victim would be incapacitated from service.

Behind the girl, and careful to remain at such a distance as allowed room for the sweep of his right arm, was stationed the most hideous figure in the scene: a tall powerful Coromantee negro, African-born, with all his savage propensities intensified by food, servitude, and the love of rum. He brandished a long-lashed, knotted whip in his broad hand, and eyeing the pliant shrinking figure before him, grinned like a demon in sheer desire of blood.

He was to take his cue from the overseer. At the moment Cerise rounded the last of the negro-houses and came into full view of this revolting spectacle, Bartoletti's harsh Italian voice grated on the silence—"One!"

Hippolyte, such was the Coromantee's inappropriate name, drew himself back, raised his brawny arm, and the lash fell with a dull jerk, deadened by the flesh into which it cut.

There was a faint moan, and the poor back quivered in helpless agony.

Cerise, in her white dress, burst through the sable circle like a flash.

"Two!" grated that harsh voice, and again the cruel