He knew but too well what was going on beyond the screen of shrubs that grew on the other side of the fence bordering the road.

For a moment he hesitated, and then muttering, "What's the use!" was about to touch the horse with the whip and gallop on, when the shriek again rose louder and more agonizing than before.

With a cry of rage Vincent leaped from his horse, threw the reins over the top of the fence, climbed over it in a moment, and burst his way through the shrubbery.
Close by, a negro was being held by four others, two having hold of each wrist and holding his arms extended to full length, while a white lad, some two years Vincent's senior, was showering blows with a heavy whip upon him.

The slave's back was already covered with weals, and the blood was flowing from several places.

A few yards distant a black girl, with a baby in her arms, was kneeling on the ground screaming for mercy for the slave.