black man appeared to rejoice at
the prospect of leaving a country in which his right to manhood had been
denied him, and his happiness destroyed.

The wind was proudly swelling the white sails, and the little craft
plunging into the foaming waves, with the land fast receding in the
distance, when Jerome mounted a pile of lumber to take a last farewell
of his native land. With tears glistening in his eyes, and with
quivering lips, he turned his gaze toward the shores that were fast
fading in the dim distance, and said,--

"Though forced from my native land by the tyrants of the South, I hope I
shall some day be able to return. With all her faults, I love my country
still."

CHAPTER XXIX. A STRANGER IN A STRANGE LAND

THE rain was falling on the dirty pavements of Liverpool as Jerome left
the vessel after her arrival. Passing the custom-house, he took a cab,
and proceeded to Brown's Hotel, Clayton Square.

Finding no employment in Liverpool, Jerome determined to go into the
interior and seek for work. He, therefore, called for his bill, and made
ready for his departure. Although but four days at the Albion, he found
the hotel charges larger than he expected; but a stranger generally
counts on being "fleeced" in travelling through the Old World, and
especially in Great Britain. After paying his bill, he was about leaving
the room, when one of the servants presented himself with a low bow, and
said,--

"Something for the waiter, sir?"

"I thought I had paid my bill," replied the man, somewhat surprised at
this polite dun.

"I am the waiter, sir, and gets only what strangers see fit to give me."

Taking from his pocket his nearly empty purse, Jerome handed the man a
half-crown; but he had hardly restored it to his pocket, before his eye
fell on another man in the waiting costume.

"What do you want?" he asked.

"Whatever your honor sees fit to give me, sir. I am the tother waiter."

The purse was again taken from the pocket, and another half-crown handed
out. Stepping out into the hall, he saw standing there a good-looking
woman, in a white apron, who made a very pretty courtesy.

"What's your business?" he inquired.

"I am the chambermaid, sir, and looks after the gentlemen's beds."

Out came the purse again, and was relieved of another half-crown;
whereupon another girl, with a fascinating smile, took the place of the
one who had just received her fee.

"What do you want?" demanded the now hal