less
intended to liberate her when he married her, but had neglected from
time to time to have the proper papers made out. Sad was the result of
this negligence.

CHAPTER XXV

THE FLIGHT.

On once gaining the wharf, Devenant and Clotelle found no difficulty in
securing an immediate passage to France. The fine packet-ship Utica lay
down the bay, and only awaited the return of the lighter that night to
complete her cargo and list of passengers, ere she departed. The young
Frenchman therefore took his prize on board, and started for the ship.

Daylight was just making its appearance the next morning when the Utica
weighed anchor and turned her prow toward the sea. In the course of
three hours, the vessel, with outspread sails, was rapidly flying from
land. Everything appeared to be auspicious. The skies were beautifully
clear, and the sea calm, with a sun that dazzled the whole scene. But
clouds soon began to chase each other through the heavens and the sea
became rough. It was then that Clotelle felt that there was hope of
escaping. She had hitherto kept in the cabin, but now she expressed a
wish to come on deck. The hanging clouds were narrowing the horizon to
a span, and gloomily mingling with the rising surges. The old and
grave-looking seamen shook their weather-wise heads as if foretelling a
storm.

As Clotelle came on deck, she strained her eyes in vain to catch a
farewell view of her native land. With a smile on her countenance, but
with her eyes filled with tears, she said,--

"Farewell, farewell to the land of my birth, and welcome, welcome, ye
dark blue waves. I care not where I go, so it is

'Where a tyrant never trod,
Where a slave was never known,
But where nature worships God,
If in the wilderness alone.'"

Devenant stood by her side, seeming proud of his future wife, with his
face in a glow at his success, while over his noble brow clustering
locks of glossy black hair were hanging in careless ringlets. His
finely-cut, classic features wore the aspect of one possessed with a
large and noble heart.

Once more the beautiful Clotelle whispered in the ear of her lover,--

"Away, away, o'er land and sea,
America is now no home for me."

The winds increased with nightfall, and impenetrable gloom surrounded
the ship. The prospect was too uncheering, even to persons in love. The
attention which Devenant paid to Clotelle, although she had been
registered on the ship's passenger list