Chapter 26

"You think, I'll weep.
No, I'll not weep:--
I have full cause of weeping; but this heart
Shall break into a hundred thousand flaws,
Or ere I'll weep."

Lear.

I pass over the manner and time of our being on the road between
Philadelphia and New York, as things belonging to a former age, and to be
forgotten. I will merely say that we travelled the South Amboy road, and
went through a part of the world called Feather-bed Lane, that causes my
bones to ache, even now, in recollection. At South Amboy, we got on board
a sloop, or packet, and entered the bay of New York, by the passage of the
Kills, landing near White-hall. We were superintending the placing of our
chests on a cart, when some one caught my hand, and exclaimed--

"God bless me!--Captain Wallingford come to life, as I live!"

It was old Jared Jones, the man who had been miller at Clawbonny from my
infancy to the day I left home. I had supposed him to be at work there
still; but the look he gave me--the tears that I could see were forcing
themselves from his eyes--his whole manner, indeed,--gave me at once to
understand that all was not right. My countenance, rather than my tongue,
demanded an explanation. Jared understood me, and we walked together
towards the Battery; leaving Marble and Neb to proceed with the luggage to
the modest lodgings in which we had proposed to hide ourselves until I had
time to look about me--a house frequented by Moses for many years.

"You perceive I do not return home, Jared, in precisely the condition in
which I went abroad. My ship and cargo are both lost, and I come among
you, now, a poor man, I fear."

"We were afraid that something of the sort must have happened, or such bad
news would never have reached Clawbonny, sir. Some of your men got back
months ago and they brought the tidings that the Dawn was captivated by
the English. From that hour, I think, Mr. Hardinge gave the matter up. The
worst news, however, for us,--that of your death excepted,--was that of
the mortgage on Clawbonny."

"The mortgage on Clawbonny! Has anything been done in connection with
that?"

"Lord bless you, my dear Mr. Miles, it has been foreclosed, under the
statue I believe they call it; and it was advertised to be sold three
months. Then, when it _was_ sold, how much do you think the place, mill
and all, actually brought? Just give a guess, sir?"

"Brought! Clawbonny is then sold, and I am no longer the owner of my
father's house!"

"Sold, sir; and we have been sent adrift--niggers and all. They said the
freedom-laws would soon let all the older blacks be their own masters;
and, as to the young 'uns, why, your