the blue waters,

the blue waters, and when daylight dawned had crossed the bar separating the harbour from the ocean. Clotilda ascends to the deck, sits on the companionseat, and in a pensive mood watches the fading hills where slavery stains the fair name of freedom,where oppression rears its dark monuments to for ever torture and disgrace a harmless race. She looks intently upon them, as one by one they fade in the obscure horizon, seeming to recall the many associations, pleasant and painful, through which she has passed. She turns from the contemplation to the deep blue sea, and the

unclouded arch of

unclouded arch of heaven, as they spread out before her they are gods own, man cannot pollute them they are like a picture of glory inspiring her with emotions she cannot suppress. As the last dim sight of land is lost in the distance, she waves a handkerchief, as if to bid it adieu for ever then looking at maxwell, who sits by her side, she says, with a sigh, i am beyond it. Free,yes, free. But, have i not left a sufferer behind. There is my poor annette, my child i will clasp her to my bosom,i will love her more when i meet her again. Goodbye, franconiadear franconia. She will be a

from the city,

from the city, where the captain and his boat await them. No time is lost in embarking the little bark rides at anchor in the stream the boat quietly glides to her they are safely on board. A few minutes more, and the little craft moves seaward under the pressure of a gentle breeze. There is no tragic pursuit of slavehunters, no tramp of horses to terrify the bleeding victim, no howlings of ravenous bloodhounds,nothing that would seem to make the issue freedom or death. No. All is as still as a midsummer night in the same clime. The womanthis daughter of slaverys vicescherishes a

love for freedom

love for freedom the hope of gaining it, and improving those endowments nature has bestowed upon her, freshens her spirits and gives her life to look forward without desponding. Maxwell is her friend he has witnessed the blighting power of slaverynot alone in its workings upon the black man, but upon the lineal offspring of freemenand has resolved to work against its mighty arm. With him it is the spontaneous action of a generous heart sympathising for the wrongs inflicted upon the weak, and loving to see right respected. The fair franconia, who has just been forced to accept the hand of a

permits human beings

permits human beings to be born for the market, and judged by the ripest wisdom. Has god ordained such freedom lasting. Will force itself upon us.we must return to our humble adventurers. The fugitives reached the back gate, leading into a narrow lane, from whence they cross into the main street. Clotilda has none of the african about her the most observing guardsman would not stop her for a slave. They pass along unmolested the guardsmen, some mounted and some walking at a slow pace, bow politely. No one demands a pass. They arrive in safety at a point about two miles

influence in and

influence in and around good mens better desires. After watching in silence for a few moments, clotilda gives vent to her feelings. I should like to see old daddy bob once more, i should. And my poor annette she is celled to be sold, im afraid but i must yield to the kindness of franconia. I have seen some good times among the old folks on the plantation. And theres aunt rachel,a good creature after all,and harry. Well i mustnt think of these things freedom is sweetest, she says. Maxwell suggests that they move onward. The music dies away in the stillness, as they

turn from the

turn from the scene to flee beyond the grasp of men who traffic in human things called property,not by a great constitution, but under a constitutions freedom giving power. Would that a great and glorious nation had not sold its freedom to the damning stain of avarice. Would that it had not perverted that holy word, for the blessings of which generations have struggled in vain. Would that it had not substituted a freedom that mystifies a jurisprudence,that brings forth the strangest fruit of human passions,that makes prison walls and dreary cells deathbeds of the innocentthat

and simultaneously the

and simultaneously the soft swelling music of still so gently oer me stealing. Floats in the air, as dulcet and soulstirring as ever touched the fancy, or clothed with holy inspiration the still repose of a southern landscape at midnight. But she is with maxwell they have passed the serenaders,liberty is the haven of her joy, it gives her new hopes of the future. Those hopes dispel the regrets that hover over her mind as she thinks of her child. For several minutes they stand together, listening to the music, and watching the familiar faces of old friends as they come upon the

balcony in the

balcony in the second story. Southern life had its pleasant associationsnone would attempt to deny them but the evil brooded in the uncertainty that hung over the fate of millions, now yielding indulgence to make life pleasant, then sinking them for ever in the cruelties of a tyrants power. It is the crushing out of the minds force,the subduing the mental and physical man to make the chattel complete,the shutting out of all the succinct virtues that nurture freedom, that incite us to improve the endowments of nature, that proves the rankling poison. And this poison spreads its baneful

around the mansion

around the mansion glittered in contrast with the starry arch of heaven the soft south breeze fans to life the dark foliage that clusters aroundnature has clothed the scene with her beauties. Clotildashe has eagerly awaited the coming timedescends to the balustrade in the rear of the mansion. Here she meets a band of musicians they have assembled to serenade, and wait the benediction, a signal for which will be made from one of the balconies. She fears they may recognise her, hesitates at the entrance, paces backward and forward in the colonnade, and professes

to be awaiting

to be awaiting some message from her mistress. Again scanning the scene, she watches intently, keeping her eyes fixed in the direction franconia has suggested. I was to meet maxwell there. Works upon her mind until she becomes nervous and agitated. I was, and must meet him there and she walks slowly back to the entrance, turns and returns, watches until her soul has nearly sickened, at length espies the joyous signal. Franconia did not deceive her. Oh, no. He stands there in the glare of a lamp that hangs from a willowtree. She vaults over the path, grasps his hand with a sisters affection,

Maxwell had sought

Maxwell had sought the captain of this schooner, found him of a generous disposition, ready to act in behalf of freedom. Having soon gained his confidence, and enlisted his good services, it took no great amount of persuasion to do this, his feelings having already been aroused against slavery, the giant arms of which, stretched out between fear and injustice, had interfered with his rights. He had seen it grasp the bones and sinews of those who were born in freedomhe had seen men laugh at his appeals for justicehe had seen one of his freeborn british seamen manacled and dragged to prison

relationship, and hastened

relationship, and hastened to free her, to send her beyond slaverys grasp, into the glad embrace of freedom. The ceremony ends the smiles and congratulations of friends, as they gather round franconia, shower upon her she receives them coldly, her heart has no love for them, it throbs with anxiety for that slave whose liberty she has planned, and for whose safety she invokes the allprotecting hand of heaven. Chapter xvi. Another phase of the picture.

While the ceremony

While the ceremony we have described in the foregoing chapter was proceeding, clotilda, yielding to the earnest request of franconia, dresses herself in garments she has provided, and awaits the commencement of the scene. A little schooner from one of the bahama islands lies moored in the harbour awaiting a fair wind to return. We need scarcely tell the reader that a plan of escape had been previously arranged between franconia and maxwell but why she took so earnest a part in carrying it out, we must reserve for another chapter.

for the loss

for the loss of family fortune, family pride, family inconsistency. Kept forcing itself upon her. There was no gladness in itno happiness. And there was the captive, the victim of foul slaveryso foul that hell yearns for its abettorswhose deliverance she prayed for with her earnest soul. She knew the oppressors graspshe had, with womanly pride, come forward to relieve the wronged, and she had become sensible of the ties binding her to clotilda. Unlike too many of her sex, she did not suppress her natural affections she could not see only the slave in a disowned sister she acknowledged the

secured and set

secured and set off with a garland of wild flowers. The hand that laid it there, that arranged it so neatly, will never arrange it again. As a last token of affection for her young mistress, clotilda has plucked a newblown chiponique, white with crystal dew, and surrounded it with tiny buds and orange blossoms this, franconia holds in her left hand, the lace to which it is attached falling like mist to the ground. Thus arrayed, they appear at the altar the good man of modest cloth takes his place, the ceremony commences and as it proceeds, and the

solemn words fall

solemn words fall upon her ear, those whom god hath joined together let no man put asunder, she raises her eyes upwards, with a look of melancholy, as tears, like pearls, glisten in her soft expressive eyes. Her heart is moved with deeper emotion than this display of southern galaxy can produce. The combination of circumstances that has brought her to the altar, the decline of fortune, perhaps disgrace, worked upon her mind. It is that which has consigned her to the arms of one she cannot love, whose feelings and associations she never can respect. Was she to be the ransom.was she to atone

relieved by two

relieved by two rows of small unpolished pearls,is ushered into the parlour, followed by groomsmen and bridesmaids as chastely dressed. There is a striking contrast between the youth and delicacy of franconia, blushing modestly and in her calmness suppressing that inert repugnance working in her mind, and the brusqueness of mcarstrow, who assumes the free and easy dash, hoping thereby to lessen his years in the picture of himself. Clotilda, for the last time, has arranged franconias hair, which lies in simple braids across her polished brows, and folds upon the back, where it is