the jailer the privilege of
seeing the slave-trader's prize. Many who saw her were melted to tears
at the pitiful sight, and were struck with admiration at her
intelligence; and, when she spoke of her child, they must have been
convinced that a mother's sorrow can be conceived by none but a
mother's heart. The warbling of birds in the green bowers of bliss,
which she occasionally heard, brought no tidings of gladness to her.
Their joy fell cold upon her heart, and seemed like bitter mockery.
They reminded her of her own cottage, where, with her beloved child,
she had spent so many happy days.

The speculator had kept close watch over his valuable piece of
property, for fear that it might damage itself. This, however, there
was no danger of, for Isabella still hoped and believed that Henry
would come to her rescue. She could not bring herself to believe that
he would allow her to be sent away without at least seeing her, and the
trader did all he could to keep this idea alive in her.

While Isabella, with a weary heart, was passing sleepless nights
thinking only of her daughter and Henry, the latter was seeking relief
in that insidious enemy of the human race, the intoxicating cup. His
wife did all in her power to make his life a pleasant and a happy one,
for Gertrude was devotedly attached to him; but a weary heart gets no
gladness out of sunshine. The secret remorse that rankled in his bosom
caused him to see all the world blood-shot. He had not visited his
mother-in-law since the evening he had given her liberty to use her own
discretion as to how Isabella and her child should be disposed of. He
feared even to go near the house, for he did not wish to see his child.
Gertrude felt this every time he declined accompanying her to her
mother's. Possessed of a tender and confiding heart, entirely unlike
her mother, she sympathized deeply with her husband. She well knew that
all young men in the South, to a greater or less extent, became
enamored of the slave-women, and she fancied that his case was only one
of the many, and if he had now forsaken all others for her she did not
wish for him to be punished; but she dared not let her mother know that
such were her feelings. Again and again had she noticed the great
resemblance between Clotelle and Henry, and she wished the child in
better hands than those of her cruel mother.

At last Gertrude determined to mention the matter to her husband.
Consequently, the next morning