"Wait a moment till I write a note to Francis Jackson, which you must carry as quick as you can," said Mr. Percival. "I will go to Mr. Sewall for a writ of _habeas corpus_"
While this was going on, the captain had locked the fugitives in the hold of his vessel, and hastened to the carriage, which had been waiting for him at a short distance from the wharf.
"Good evening, Mr. Bell," said he, raising his hat as he approached the carriage door.
"Good evening, Captain Kane," replied the gentleman inside. "You've kept me waiting so long, I was nearly out of patience."
"I sent you word they'd escaped, sir," rejoined the captain. "They gave us a run; but we've got 'em fast enough in the hold. One of 'em seems to be a white man. Perhaps he's an Abolitionist, that's been helping the nigger off. It's good enough for him to be sent back to the South. If they get hold of him there, he'll never have a chance to meddle with gentlemen's property again."
"They're both slaves," replied Mr. Bell. "The telegram I received informed me that one would pass himself for a white man. But, captain, you must take 'em directly to Castle Island. One of the officers there will lock 'em up, if you tell them I sent you. And you can't be off too quick; for as likely as not the Abolitionists will get wind of it, and be raising a row before morning. There's no safety for property now-a-days."
Having given these orders, the wealthy merchant bade the captain good evening, and his carriage rolled away.
The unhappy fugitives were immediately taken from the hold of the vessel, pinioned fast, and hustled on board a boat, which urged its swift way through the waters to Castle Island, where they were safely locked up till further orders.
"O George, they'll send us back," said the younger one. "I wish we war dead."
George answered, with a deep groan: "O how I have watched the North Star! thinking always it pointed to a land of freedom. O my God, is there _no_ place of refuge for the slave?"
"_You_ are so white, you could have got off, if you hadn't brought _me_ with you," sobbed the other.
"And what good would freedom do me without you, Henny?" responded the young man, drawing his companion closer to his breast. "Cheer up, honey! I'll try again; and perhaps we'll make out better next time."