When I had been with Mr. Comstock about a year, we received a visit from my old master, Capt.  Helm, who had spared no pains to find me, and when he learned where I was he came to claim me as “his boy,” who, he said he “wanted and must have.”

Mr. Comstock told him I was not “his boy,” and as such he would not give me up; and further, that I was free by the laws of the State.  He assured the Captain that his hiring me out in the first instance, to Mr. Tower, forfeited his claim to me, and gave me a right to freedom,—­but if he chose to join issue, they would have the case tried in the Supreme Court; but this proposition the Captain declined:  he knew well enough that it would result in my favor; and after some flattery and coaxing, he left me with my friend, Mr. Comstock, in liberty and peace!

CHAPTER XII.

CAPT.  HELM—­DIVORCE—­KIDNAPPING.

The business affairs of Capt.  Helm had for some time been far from prosperous; and now he was quite poor.  His slave property proved a bad investment, and Madam Thornton a far worse one.  She had already applied for a divorce, and a good share of the estate as alimony; both of which she succeeded in getting, the Captain allowing her to take pretty much her own course.  These troubles, with costs of lawsuits, bad management, &c., had now emptied the coffers of my old master almost to the last farthing; and he began to cast about him for some way to replenish his purse, and retrieve his fallen fortunes.

Had Capt.  Helm been brought up to honorable industry, and accustomed to look after his own pecuniary interests, he doubtless would have sustained his position; or if reverses were unavoidable, he would have by persevering industry, regained what he had lost.  But he had been raised in a slave State, and Southern principles were as deeply instilled into his mind, as Southern manners were impressed on his life and conduct.

He had no partiality for labor of any kind; horse-racing and card-playing were far more congenial to his tastes; reduced as he now was, he would deny himself no luxury that his means or credit would procure.  His few remaining slaves were given into the hands of an idle, brutal overseer —­while they, half fed, half clothed, grew more and more discontented, and ran away on every opportunity that offered.

The Captain at last hit upon a method of making money, which, if it had been carried into operation on the high seas, would in all probability have been called by its right name, and incurred the penalty of the gallows—­as piracy.  Ought it then to be deemed less criminal because transpiring on the free soil of the American Republic?  I think not.  Nor was it less censurable on account of its failure.