“Is Neptune gone, too, Vingo?”

“Yes, missy, dar not eben a shadow left ob him; and, [the negro had a remarkable imagination], ’pears like I see de print ob a cloben tread in de soft ground, by his door; and among de hay de old fellow hab lef some ob his plunder trough mistake.”

Sea-flower hastened to the dog’s kennel, and there indeed was a small parcel, folded neatly in white paper, but no trace of the dog was to be seen; opening the package, there was a small locket, containing the likeness of her mother and herself, which had been left upon the parlor table, but how it came in the dog’s kennel was a mystery.

“Oh, our faithful Neptune! how much we shall miss him!  It must be that he has gone with his master; but perhaps it is all for the best.”

“I tinks eberyting should be ob de best for you, missy; ’pears like if my poor old Phillis could get used to de tribilations, like you do, it help to make de road easier; but I specks she neber learn how.”

“O, Vingo, it makes my heart bleed to think that your people have no opportunities for learning that they may cast their burdens on the Lord.  I cannot imagine anything more dreadful than the ignorance in which the slaves are kept.”

“Yes, missy, I neber remembers much about it till I leabes old Berginny; some how or oder, I finds out dat old massa’s people hab a God, but I neber ’spect he know anyting ’bout poor black man.”

Days and months passed on, as the lonely days of sorrow do come, and go, and come again; but as the lengthened shades of the summer solstice had again become less, another cloud had arisen in the firmament of mingled joys and sorrows, threatening to encompass even the bright rays of hope within its gloom.

Mrs. Grosvenor had written her husband of the conduct of their truant son, as Harry had wished, and had in reply received his full forgiveness for the boy.  Captain Grosvenor had written that he much regretted not having taken Harry along with him, “for,” said he, “a second thought would have convinced me that the boy had too much of the spirit of his father to remain contentedly on shore; he has but followed in my footsteps, for I never shall forget the night I stole away from my father’s house, when I was but ten years old, and went to sea.  Yes, tell my boy that I forgive him, yet it annoys me very much that you and our dear Natalie are left alone, my wife; but at the rate we have been doing, it will not be long before we shall be homeward bound.”

Nearly a twelvemonth had passed since this letter had been received; not a word had been heard of the Tantalizer for a long time; several ships had returned which had left since she had sailed, but they had brought no tidings of her.  Over a year had passed since she was last reported, and her owners began to look doubtful in regard to her fate; and there were rumors that the Tantalizer was counted among the missing vessels, yet no one dared to breathe the thought to the still