of the case:  a convention is arranged, Graspum will value the property-as a weigher and gauger of human flesh.  This done, M’Carstrow signs a bond in the sum of fifteen hundred dollars, making himself responsible for the property.  The instrument contains a provision, that should any unforeseen disaster befall it, the question of property will remain subject to the decision of Court.  Upon these conditions, M’Carstrow procures an order for her release.  He is careful, however, that nothing herein set forth shall affect the suit already instituted.

Love is an exhilarating medicine, moving and quickening the hearts of old and young.  M’Carstrow felt its influence sensibly, as he hurried back to the prison-excited by the near approach of the ceremony-with the all-important order.  Bolts, bars, and malarious walls, yield to it the pining captive whose presence will soothe Franconia’s feelings.

Clotilda was no less elated at the hope of changing her prison for the presence of her young mistress; and yet, the previous summons had nearly unnerved her.  She lingers at the grating, waiting M’Carstrow’s return.  Time seems to linger, until her feelings are nearly overwhelmed in suspense.  Again, there is a mystery in the mission of the stranger; she almost doubts his sincerity.  It may be one of those plots, so often laid by slave-traders, to separate her from her child,—­perhaps to run her where all hope of regaining freedom will be for ever lost.  One after another did these things recur to her mind, only to make the burden of her troubles more painful.

Her child has eaten its crust, fallen into a deep sleep, and, its little hands resting clasped on its bosom, lies calmly upon the coarse blanket.  She gazes upon it, as a mother only can gaze.  There is beauty in that sweet face; it is not valued for its loveliness, its tenderness, its purity.  How cursed that it is to be the prime object of her disgrace!  Thus contemplating, M’Carstrow appears at the outer gate, is admitted into the prison, reaches the inner grating, is received by the warden, who smiles generously.  “I’m as glad as anything!  Hope you had a good time with his honour, Mr. Cur?” he says, holding the big key in his hand, and leading the way into the office.  He takes his seat at a table, commences preparing the big book.  “Here is the entry,” he says, with a smile of satisfaction.  “We’ll soon straighten the thing now.”  Puts out his hand for the order which M’Carstrow has been holding.  “That’s just the little thing,” he says, reading it word by word carefully, and concluding with the remark that he has had a deal of trouble with it.  M’Carstrow places some pieces of silver in his hand; they turn the man of keys into a subservient creature.  He hastens to the cell, M’Carstrow following,—­draws the heavy bolts,—­bids the prisoner come forth.  “Yes, come, girl; I’ve had a tough time to get you out of that place:  it holds its prey like lawyers’ seals,” rejoins M’Carstrow.