The wind blew fearfully.  Concklin was rowing heroically when loud voices from the shore hailed him, but he was utterly deaf to the sound.  Immediately one or two guns were fired in the direction of the skiff, but he heeded not this significant call; consequently here ended this difficulty.  He supposed, as the wind was blowing so hard, those on shore who hailed him must have concluded that he did not hear them and that he meant no disrespect in treating them with seeming indifference.  Whilst many straits and great dangers had to be passed, this was the greatest before reaching their destination.

But suffice it to say that the glad tidings which this letter contained filled the breast of Peter with unutterable delight and his friends and relations with wonder beyond degree.[A] No fond wife had ever waited with more longing desire for the return of her husband than Peter had for this blessed news.  All doubts had disappeared, and a well grounded hope was cherished that within a few short days Peter and his fond wife and children would be reunited in Freedom on the Canada side, and that Concklin and the friends would be rejoicing with joy unspeakable over this great triumph.  But alas, before the few days had expired the subjoined brief paragraph of news was discovered in the morning Ledger.

[Footnote A:  In some unaccountable manner this the last letter Concklin ever penned, perhaps, has been unfortunately lost.]

Runaway negroes caught.—­At Vincennes, Indiana, on Saturday last, a white man and four negroes were arrested.  The negroes belong to B. McKiernon, of South Florence, Alabama, and the man who was running them off calls himself John H. Miller.  The prisoners were taken charge of by the Marshall of Evansville.—­April 9th.

How suddenly these sad tidings turned into mourning and gloom the hope and joy of Peter and his relatives no pen could possibly describe; at least the writer will not attempt it here, but will at once introduce a witness who met the noble Concklin and the panting fugitives in Indiana and proffered them sympathy and advice.  And it may safely be said from a truer and more devoted friend of the slave they could not have received counsel.

    EVANSVILLE, INDIANA, MARCH 31st, 1851.

WM. STILL:  Dear Sir ,—­On last Tuesday I mailed a letter to you, written by Seth Concklin.  I presume you have received that letter.  It gave an account of his rescue of the family of your brother.  If that is the last news you have had from them, I have very painful intelligence for you.  They passed on from near Princeton, where I saw them and had a lengthy interview with them, up north, I think twenty-three miles above Vincennes, Ind., where they were seized by a party of men, and lodged in jail.  Telegraphic dispatches were sent all through the South.  I have since learned that the Marshall of Evansville received a dispatch from Tuscumbia, to look out