after paper, carefully.  He looks in vain.  It is not there; there is no document so fatal.  Sharper men have taken better care of it.  “It is not here!” he whispers, his countenance becoming pallid and death-like.  “Not here!"-and they will swear to suit their purposes.  Oaths are only worth what they bring in the market, among slave dealers.  But, who can have taken it?” he continues, looking wildly at Maxwell.  Consternation is pictured on his countenance; he feels there is intrigue at work, and that the want of that paper will prove fatal to his resolution.  A man in trouble always confides in others, sometimes those whom he would scarce have trusted before.  He throws the paper aside, takes a seat at Maxwell’s side, grasps him by the hand, saying, “My friend! save them! save them! save them!  Use what stratagem you please; make it the experiment of your life.  Consummate it, and a penitent’s prayer will bless you!  I see the impending catastrophe-”

“We may do without it; be quiet.  Let your feelings calm.  I have consulted Franconia on the same subject.  Woman can do much if she will; and she has promised me she will.  My knowledge of her womanly nature tells me she will be true to Clotilda!” Maxwell speaks assuringly, and his words seem as balm to a wounded spirit.

The bill of sale was among the things intended for a more profitable use.  Marston has satisfied Graspum’s claim; but he knew that slavery deadened the sensibilities of men.  Yet, could it have so deadened Graspum’s feeling that he would have been found in a plot against him?  No! he could not believe it.  He would not look for foul play from that quarter.  It might have been mislaid-if lost, all the better.  A second thought, and he begins to quiet himself with the belief that it had become extinct; that, there not being evidence to prove them property, his word would be sufficient to procure their release.  Somewhat relieved of the force of parental anxiety-we can call it by no other name-the troubled planter, with his troubles inherited, promises Maxwell, who has postponed his departure that he may aid in saving Clotilda and her child, that he will proceed direct to the sheriff’s office, give notice of their freedom to that functionary, and forbid the sale.  Upon this resolution they part for the night, and on the following morning, Marston, sick at heart, leaves for the city, hoping to make arrangements with his attorney, who will serve notice of freedom with all the expense and legality of form.

The reader will excuse us for passing over many things of minor importance which take place during the progress of arrangements between Marston and the attorney, Mr. Dyson—­commonly called Thomas Dyson, Esq., wonderfully clever in the practice of slave law—­and proceeding to where we find the notice formally served.  The document forbids the sale of certain persons, physically and mentally described, according to the nicest rules of law and tenour of trade; and is, with