Blue Mountains. I will kill them, too, and will retake my dear sister or perish."
Mr. Freind's habits of self-command supported him in this trying moment.
"God has given me a son," said he. "Let him take both father and son, when the eternal decree shall go forth. My friend, I am tempted to think God sometimes acts by a special providence, since he avenges, in America, crimes committed in Europe, and since this wicked Clive-Hart died as she deserved. Perhaps the Sovereign of the universe does in His government punish, even in this world, crimes committed here. I dare not assert; I wish to think so; indeed I should believe it, were not such an opinion opposed to all metaphysical laws."
After these sad reflections on an event common in America, Freind resumed his usual demeanor.
"I have a good ship," said he to his host, "with abundant stores. Let us go up the gulf as near as we may to the Blue Mountains. My most anxious business now is to save your daughter. Let us go to your countrymen; say I bear the pipe of peace—that I am the grandson of Penn. That name alone will suffice."
At the name of Penn, so much revered throughout North America, the worthy Parouba and his son felt the greatest respect and the greatest hope. We embarked, and in thirty-six hours reached Baltimore.
