Chapter XXVI.
"You think, I'll weep.
No, I'll not weep:--
I have full cause of weeping; but this heart
Shall break into a hundred thousand flaws,
Or ere I'll weep."Lear.
I pass over the manner and time of our being on the road between Philadelphia and New York, as things belonging to a former age, and to be forgotten. I will merely say that we travelled the South Amboy road, and went through a part of the world called Feather-bed Lane, that causes my bones to ache, even now, in recollection. At South Amboy, we got on board a sloop, or packet, and entered the bay of New York, by the passage of the Kills, landing near White-hall. We were superintending the placing of our chests on a cart, when some one caught my hand, and exclaimed--
"God bless me!--Captain Wallingford come to life, as I live!"
It was old Jared Jones, the man who had been miller at Clawbonny from my infancy to the day I left home. I had supposed him to be at work there still; but the look he gave me--the tears that I could see were forcing themselves from his eyes--his whole manner, indeed,--gave me at once to understand that all was not right. My countenance, rather than my tongue, demanded an explanation. Jared understood me, and we walked together towards the Battery; leaving Marble and Neb to proceed with the luggage to the modest lodgings in which we had proposed to hide ourselves until I had time to look about me--a house frequented by Moses for many years.
"You perceive I do not return home, Jared, in precisely the condition in which I went abroad. My ship and cargo are both lost, and I come among you, now, a poor man, I fear."
"We were afraid that something of the sort must have happened, or such bad news would never have reached Clawbonny, sir. Some of your men got back months ago and they brought the tidings that the Dawn was captivated by the English. From that hour, I think, Mr. Hardinge gave the matter up. The worst news, however, for us,--that of your death excepted,--was that of the mortgage on Clawbonny."
"The mortgage on Clawbonny! Has anything been done in connection with that?"
"Lord bless you, my dear Mr. Miles, it has been foreclosed, under the statue I believe they call it; and it was advertised to be sold three months. Then, when it was sold, how much do you think the place, mill and all, actually brought? Just give a guess, sir?"
"Brought! Clawbonny is then sold, and I am no longer the owner of my father's house!"