The rest of our story is soon told. George Shelby, interested, as anyother young man might be, by the romance of the incident, no less thanby feelings of humanity, was at the pains to send to Cassy the billof sale of Eliza; whose date and name all corresponded with her ownknowledge of facts, and felt no doubt upon her mind as to the identityof her child. It remained now only for her to trace out the path of thefugitives.

Madame de Thoux and she, thus drawn together by the singular coincidenceof their fortunes, proceeded immediately to Canada, and began a tour ofinquiry among the stations, where the numerous fugitives from slaveryare located. At Amherstberg they found the missionary with whom Georgeand Eliza had taken shelter, on their first arrival in Canada; andthrough him were enabled to trace the family to Montreal.

George and Eliza had now been five years free. George had found constantoccupation in the shop of a worthy machinist, where he had been earninga competent support for his family, which, in the mean time, had beenincreased by the addition of another daughter.

Little Harry--a fine bright boy--had been put to a good school, and wasmaking rapid proficiency in knowledge.

The worthy pastor of the station, in Amherstberg, where George had firstlanded, was so much interested in the statements of Madame de Thoux andCassy, that he yielded to the solicitations of the former, to accompanythem to Montreal, in their search,--she bearing all the expense of theexpedition.

The scene now changes to a small, neat tenement, in the outskirts ofMontreal; the time, evening. A cheerful fire blazes on the hearth; atea-table, covered with a snowy cloth, stands prepared for the eveningmeal. In one corner of the room was a table covered with a green cloth,where was an open writing-desk, pens, paper, and over it a shelf ofwell-selected books.

This was George's study. The same zeal for self-improvement, which ledhim to steal the much coveted arts of reading and writing, amid all thetoil and discouragements of his early life, still led him to devote allhis leisure time to self-cultivation.

At this present time, he is seated at the table, making notes from avolume of the family library he has been reading.

"Come, George," says Eliza, "you've been gone all day. Do put down thatbook, and let's talk, while I'm getting tea,--do."

And little Eliza seconds the effort, by toddling up to her father, andtrying to pull the book out of his hand, and install herself on his kneeas a substitute.

"O, you little witch!" says George, yielding, as, in such circumstances,man always must.

"That's right," says Eliza, as she begins to cut a loaf of bread. Alittle older she looks; her form a little fuller; her air more matronlythan of yore; but evidently contented and happy as woman need be.

"Harry, my boy, how did you come on in that sum, today?" says George, ashe laid his hand on his son's head.

Harry has lost his long curls; but he can never lose those eyes andeyelashes, and that fine, bold brow, that flushes with triumph, as heanswers, "I did it, every bit of it, _myself_, father; and _nobody_helped me!"

"That's right," says his father; "depend on yourself, my son. You have abetter chance than ever your poor father had."

At this moment, there is a rap at the door; and Eliza goes and opensit. The delighted--"Why! this you?"--calls up her husband; and the goodpastor of Amherstberg is welcomed. There are two more women with him,and Eliza asks them to sit down.

Now, if the truth must be told, the honest pastor had arranged a littleprogramme, according to which this affair was to develop itself; and,on the way up, all had very cautiously and prudently exhorted each othernot to let things out, except according to previous arrangement.

What was the good man's consternation, therefore, just as hehad motioned to the ladies to be seated, and was taking out hispocket-handkerchief to wipe his mouth, so as to proceed to hisintroductory speech in good order, when Madame de Thoux upset the wholeplan, by throwing her arms around George's neck, and letting all out atonce, by saying, "O, George! don't you know me? I'm your sister Emily."

Cassy had seated herself more composedly, and would have carried on herpart very well, had not little Eliza suddenly appeared before her inexact shape and form, every outline and curl, just as her daughter waswhen she saw her last. The little thing peered up in her face; and Cassycaught her up in her arms, pressed her to her bosom, saying, what, atthe moment she really believed, "Darling, I'm your mother!"

In fact, it was a troublesome matter to do up exactly in proper order;but the good pastor, at last, succeeded in getting everybody quiet, anddelivering the speech with which he had intended to open the exercises;and in which, at last, he succeeded so well, that his whole audiencewere sobbing about him in a manner that ought to satisfy any orator,ancient or modern.

They knelt together, and the good man prayed,--for there are somefeelings so agitated and tumultuous, that they can find rest only bybeing poured into the bosom of Almighty love,--and then, rising up, thenew-found family embraced each other, with a holy trust in Him, whofrom such peril and dangers, and by such unknown ways, had brought themtogether.

The note-book of a missionary, among the Canadian fugitives, containstruth stranger than fiction. How can it be otherwise, when a systemprevails which whirls families and scatters their members, as the windwhirls and scatters the leaves of autumn? These shores of refuge, likethe eternal shore, often unite again, in glad communion, hearts thatfor long years have mourned each other as lost. And affecting beyondexpression is the earnestness with which every new arrival among themis met, if, perchance, it may bring tidings of mother, sister, child orwife, still lost to view in the shadows of slavery.

Deeds of heroism are wrought here more than those of romance, whendefying torture, and braving death itself, the fugitive voluntarilythreads his way back to the terrors and perils of that dark land, thathe may bring out his sister, or mother, or wife.

One young man, of whom a missionary has told us, twice re-captured, andsuffering shameful stripes for his heroism, had escaped again; and, ina letter which we heard read, tells his friends that he is going back athird time, that he may, at last, bring away his sister. My good sir,is this man a hero, or a criminal? Would not you do as much for yoursister? And can you blame him?

But, to return to our friends, whom we left wiping their eyes, andrecovering themselves from too great and sudden a joy. They are nowseated around the social board, and are getting decidedly companionable;only that Cassy, who keeps little Eliza on her lap, occasionallysqueezes the little thing, in a manner that rather astonishes her, andobstinately refuses to have her mouth stuffed with cake to the extentthe little one desires,--alleging, what the child rather wonders at,that she has got something better than cake, and doesn't want it.

And, indeed, in two or three days, such a change has passed over Cassy,that our readers would scarcely know her. The despairing, haggardexpression of her face had given way to one of gentle trust. She seemedto sink, at once, into the bosom of the family, and take the little onesinto her heart, as something for which it long had waited. Indeed, herlove seemed to flow more naturally to the little Eliza than to her owndaughter; for she was the exact image and body of the child whom shehad lost. The little one was a flowery bond between mother and daughter,through whom grew up acquaintanceship and affection. Eliza's steady,consistent piety, regulated by the constant reading of the sacredword, made her a proper guide for the shattered and wearied mind of hermother. Cassy yielded at once, and with her whole soul, to every goodinfluence, and became a devout and tender Christian.

After a day or two, Madame de Thoux told her brother more particularlyof her affairs. The death of her husband had left her an ample fortune,which she generously offered to share with the family. When she askedGeorge what way she could best apply it for him, he answered, "Give mean education, Emily; that has always been my heart's desire. Then, I cando all the rest."

On mature deliberation, it was decided that the whole family should go,for some years, to France; whither they sailed, carrying Emmeline withthem.

The good looks of the latter won the affection of the first mate of thevessel; and, shortly after entering the port, she became his wife.

George remained four years at a French university, and, applying himselfwith an unintermitted zeal, obtained a very thorough education.

Political troubles in France, at last, led the family again to seek anasylum in this country.

George's feelings and views, as an educated man, may be best expressedin a letter to one of his friends.

"I feel somewhat at a loss, as to my future course. True, as youhave said to me, I might mingle in the circles of the whites, in thiscountry, my shade of color is so slight, and that of my wife and familyscarce perceptible. Well, perhaps, on sufferance, I might. But, to tellyou the truth, I have no wish to.

"My sympathies are not for my father's race, but for my mother's. To himI was no more than a fine dog or horse: to my poor heart-broken motherI was a _child_; and, though I never saw her, after the cruel sale thatseparated us, till she died, yet I _know_ she always loved me dearly.I know it by my own heart. When I think of all she suffered, of my ownearly sufferings, of the distresses and struggles of my heroic wife, ofmy sister, sold in the New Orleans slave-market,--though I hope to haveno unchristian sentiments, yet I may be excused for saying, I have nowish to pass for an American, or to identify myself with them.

"It is with the oppressed, enslaved African race that I cast in my lot;and, if I wished anything, I would wish myself two shades darker, ratherthan one lighter.

"The desire and yearning of my soul is for an African _nationality_. Iwant a people that shall have a tangible, separate existence of itsown; and where am I to look for it? Not in Hayti; for in Hayti they hadnothing to start with. A stream cannot rise above its fountain. The racethat formed the character of the Haytiens was a worn-out, effeminateone; and, of course, the subject race will be centuries in rising toanything.

"Where, then, shall I look? On the shores of Africa I see a republic,--arepublic formed of picked men, who, by energy and self-educating force,have, in many cases, individually, raised themselves above a conditionof slavery. Having gone through a preparatory stage of feebleness, thisrepublic has, at last, become an acknowledged nation on the face of theearth,--acknowledged by both France and England. There it is my wish togo, and find myself a people.

"I am aware, now, that I shall have you all against me; but, beforeyou strike, hear me. During my stay in France, I have followed up, withintense interest, the history of my people in America. I have noted thestruggle between abolitionist and colonizationist, and have receivedsome impressions, as a distant spectator, which could never haveoccurred to me as a participator.

"I grant that this Liberia may have subserved all sorts of purposes, bybeing played off, in the hands of our oppressors, against us. Doubtlessthe scheme may have been used, in unjustifiable ways, as a means ofretarding our emancipation. But the question to me is, Is there not aGod above all man's schemes? May He not have over-ruled their designs,and founded for us a nation by them?

"In these days, a nation is born in a day. A nation starts, now, withall the great problems of republican life and civilization wrought outto its hand;--it has not to discover, but only to apply. Let us, then,all take hold together, with all our might, and see what we can do withthis new enterprise, and the whole splendid continent of Africaopens before us and our children. _Our nation_ shall roll the tide ofcivilization and Christianity along its shores, and plant there mightyrepublics, that, growing with the rapidity of tropical vegetation, shallbe for all coming ages.

"Do you say that I am deserting my enslaved brethren? I think not. If Iforget them one hour, one moment of my life, so may God forget me! But,what can I do for them, here? Can I break their chains? No, not as anindividual; but, let me go and form part of a nation, which shall have avoice in the councils of nations, and then we can speak. A nation hasa right to argue, remonstrate, implore, and present the cause of itsrace,--which an individual has not.

"If Europe ever becomes a grand council of free nations,--as I trust inGod it will,--if, there, serfdom, and all unjust and oppressive socialinequalities, are done away; and if they, as France and England havedone, acknowledge our position,--then, in the great congress of nations,we will make our appeal, and present the cause of our enslaved andsuffering race; and it cannot be that free, enlightened America willnot then desire to wipe from her escutcheon that bar sinister whichdisgraces her among nations, and is as truly a curse to her as to theenslaved.

"But, you will tell me, our race have equal rights to mingle in theAmerican republic as the Irishman, the German, the Swede. Granted,they have. We _ought_ to be free to meet and mingle,--to rise by ourindividual worth, without any consideration of caste or color; and theywho deny us this right are false to their own professed principles ofhuman equality. We ought, in particular, to be allowed _here_. We have_more_ than the rights of common men;--we have the claim of an injuredrace for reparation. But, then, _I do not want it_; I want a country, anation, of my own. I think that the African race has peculiarities, yetto be unfolded in the light of civilization and Christianity, which, ifnot the same with those of the Anglo-Saxon, may prove to be, morally, ofeven a higher type.

"To the Anglo-Saxon race has been intrusted the destinies of the world,during its pioneer period of struggle and conflict. To that missionits stern, inflexible, energetic elements, were well adapted; but, asa Christian, I look for another era to arise. On its borders I trust westand; and the throes that now convulse the nations are, to my hope, butthe birth-pangs of an hour of universal peace and brotherhood.

"I trust that the development of Africa is to be essentially a Christianone. If not a dominant and commanding race, they are, at least, anaffectionate, magnanimous, and forgiving one. Having been called in thefurnace of injustice and oppression, they have need to bind closer totheir hearts that sublime doctrine of love and forgiveness, throughwhich alone they are to conquer, which it is to be their mission tospread over the continent of Africa.

"In myself, I confess, I am feeble for this,--full half the blood in myveins is the hot and hasty Saxon; but I have an eloquent preacher ofthe Gospel ever by my side, in the person of my beautiful wife. When Iwander, her gentler spirit ever restores me, and keeps before my eyesthe Christian calling and mission of our race. As a Christian patriot,as a teacher of Christianity, I go to _my country_,--my chosen, myglorious Africa!--and to her, in my heart, I sometimes apply thosesplendid words of prophecy: 'Whereas thou hast been forsaken andhated, so that no man went through thee; _I_ will make thee an eternalexcellence, a joy of many generations!'

"You will call me an enthusiast: you will tell me that I have not wellconsidered what I am undertaking. But I have considered, and countedthe cost. I go to _Liberia_, not as an Elysium of romance, but as to _afield of work_. I expect to work with both hands,--to work _hard_; towork against all sorts of difficulties and discouragements; and to worktill I die. This is what I go for; and in this I am quite sure I shallnot be disappointed.

"Whatever you may think of my determination, do not divorce me from yourconfidence; and think that, in whatever I do, I act with a heart whollygiven to my people.

"GEORGE HARRIS."

George, with his wife, children, sister and mother, embarked for Africa,some few weeks after. If we are not mistaken, the world will yet hearfrom him there.

Of our other characters we have nothing very particular to write, excepta word relating to Miss Ophelia and Topsy, and a farewell chapter, whichwe shall dedicate to George Shelby.

Miss Ophelia took Topsy home to Vermont with her, much to the surpriseof the grave deliberative body whom a New Englander recognizes underthe term "_Our folks_." "Our folks," at first, thought it an odd andunnecessary addition to their well-trained domestic establishment; but,so thoroughly efficient was Miss Ophelia in her conscientious endeavorto do her duty by her _eleve_, that the child rapidly grew in grace andin favor with the family and neighborhood. At the age of womanhood, shewas, by her own request, baptized, and became a member of the Christianchurch in the place; and showed so much intelligence, activity and zeal,and desire to do good in the world, that she was at last recommended,and approved as a missionary to one of the stations in Africa; and wehave heard that the same activity and ingenuity which, when a child,made her so multiform and restless in her developments, is now employed,in a safer and wholesomer manner, in teaching the children of her owncountry.

P.S.--It will be a satisfaction to some mother, also, to state, thatsome inquiries, which were set on foot by Madame de Thoux, have resultedrecently in the discovery of Cassy's son. Being a young man of energy,he had escaped, some years before his mother, and been received andeducated by friends of the oppressed in the north. He will soon followhis family to Africa.