Chapter 56 - Page 2

and backward curled in
velvet paws; and fixed their once glaring eyes in fascinated and
fascinating brilliancy. Ay, still and hissingly all, for a time, they
relinquished their prey.

Now, during the voyage, the treatment of the crew threw Harry more and
more upon myself for companionship; and few can keep constant company
with another, without revealing some, at least, of their secrets; for
all of us yearn for sympathy, even if we do not for love; and to be
intellectually alone is a thing only tolerable to genius, whose
cherisher and inspirer is solitude.

But though my friend became more communicative concerning his past
career than ever he had been before, yet he did not make plain many
things in his hitherto but partly divulged history, which I was very
curious to know; and especially he never made the remotest allusion to
aught connected with our trip to London; while the oath of secrecy by
which he had bound me held my curiosity on that point a captive.
However, as it was, Harry made many very interesting disclosures; and if
he did not gratify me more in that respect, he atoned for it in a
measure, by dwelling upon the future, and the prospects, such as they
were, which the future held out to him.

He confessed that he had no money but a few shillings left from the
expenses of our return from London; that only by selling some more of
his clothing, could he pay for his first week's board in New York; and
that he was altogether without any regular profession or business, upon
which, by his own exertions, he could securely rely for support. And
yet, he told me that he was determined never again to return to England;
and that somewhere in America he must work out his temporal felicity.

"I have forgotten England," he said, "and never more mean to think of
it; so tell me, Wellingborough, what am I to do in America?"

It was a puzzling question, and full of grief to me, who, young though I
was, had been well rubbed, curried, and ground down to fine powder in
the hopper of an evil fortune, and who therefore could sympathize with
one in similar circumstances. For though we may look grave and behave
kindly and considerately to a friend in calamity; yet, if we have never
actually experienced something like the woe that weighs him down, we can
not with the best grace proffer our sympathy. And perhaps there is no
true sympathy but between equals; and it may be, that we should distrust
that man's sincerity, who stoops to condole with us.

So Harry and I, two friendless wanderers, beguiled many a long watch by
talking over our common affairs. But inefficient, as a benefactor, as I
certainly was; still, being an American, and returning to my home; even
as he was a