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.

Was she still in prison, and if so, what would be her punishment for aiding him to escape from prison?
Would he ever behold her again?
These were the thoughts that followed him to his pillow, haunted him in his dreams, and awakened him from his slumbers.
The alarm of fire aroused the inmates of the hotel in which Jerome had sought shelter for the night from the deep sleep into which they had fallen.

The whole village was buried in slumber, and the building was half consumed before the frightened inhabitants had reached the scene of the conflagration.

The wind was high, and the burning embers were wafted like so many rockets through the sky.

The whole town was lighted up, and the cries of women and children in the streets made the scene a terrific one.