Behind her stood old master, with cowskin in hand, preparing his barbarous work with all manner of harsh, coarse, and tantalizing epithets.

The screams of his victim were most piercing.

He was cruelly deliberate, and protracted the torture, as one who was delighted with the scene.

Again and again he drew the hateful whip through his hand, adjusting it with a view of dealing the most pain-giving blow.

Poor Esther had never yet been severely whipped, and her shoulders{68} were plump and tender.
Each blow, vigorously laid on, brought screams as well as blood.