With a yearning heart, he saw the splendor of the setting sun
lingering on the hills, as if loath to fade away and be lost
in the more sombre hues of twilight, which, rising from the east,
was slowly stealing over the expanse of heaven, bearing silence
and repose, which should cover his flight from a neighborhood
to him so full of dangers.
Wearily and alone, with nothing but the hope of safety
before him to cheer him on his way, the poor fugitive urged
his tired and trembling limbs forward for several nights.
The new suit of clothes with which he had provided himself
when he made his escape from his captors, and the twenty
dollars which the young Quaker had slipped into his hand,
when bidding him "Fare thee well," would enable him to appear
genteelly as soon as he dared to travel by daylight, and would
thus facilitate his progress toward freedom.
It was late in the evening when the fugitive slave arrived at a small
town on the banks of Lake Erie, where he was to remain over night.
How strange were his feelings! While his heart throbbed for that freedom
and safety which Canada alone could furnish to the whip-scarred slave,
on the American continent, his thoughts were with Clotelle.
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