The Black-Sealed Letter | Page 4

permit. A few weeks after the birth of the child, in December of 1868, Frederick made a tour into Devonshire for the purpose of visiting an uncle residing in the town of Exeter, and also discovering some thriving village or town where he might find ready employment, with the view of eventually establishing himself in business to his own advantage. He at length selected Tiverton as his place of residence, where he procured work at favorable wages. Elated with success he immediately wrote to his parents, and also penned a lengthy epistle to Clara, describing the place and people in very flattering words, flourishing off with a few epithets expressive of his undying affection for herself and the child; and hoping that in a few months he would have the pleasure of introducing her to a comfortable home, under the happy title of Mrs. Frederick Charlston.
Winter passed slowly along, during which time letters were frequently sent and received. The first day of May at length came, but no house was apparently provided for Clara and her child. Shortly afterwards Frederick returned home, and made known the intelligence that he had given up the idea of settling in Tiverton as he had decided upon making his future home in Canada, which place had been described by an emigrant agent who had lectured several nights in the town, as one of the finest countries in the world for the workingmen of England; that millions of acres of land were there to be given away, and every actual settler received 100 acres gratis. A river one hundred times larger than all the rivers of England put together, ran the whole length of the country, 1500 miles long. There were lakes there so large that even into the smallest of them the whole island of Great Britain might be thrown, and sink beyond recovery. In fact, said he, "it possessed all the facilities and improvements of the 19th century;--equality, independence and wealth awaiting every industrious man who went thither;--it was, indeed, the workshop of the tradesman, the emporium of the trader, and above all, blessed be the fact, it was the poor man's paradise upon earth."
Frederick soon discovered that the big bubble he had blown up was likely to be blown down. His mother and sisters strongly objected to his purpose, and begged of him not to bury himself out of the world as long as he had an opportunity of living in it.
"Why, Frederick," exclaimed his father, "were you to go to Canada you would repent of it but once, and that will be as long as you live. You talk of free-lands; why, of what use would they be to you? They might be of service to those who have been long accustomed to outside labor. But for you to go into the dense forests amidst mountains of almost perpetual snow, to chop out for yourself a fortune, or even a livelihood, would be a thousand times worse than banishment to the icy deserts of Siberia. For my sake, and for the love you owe to all that are dear to you in England, I beseech of you to relinquish, at least for the present, your design. Get married at once, and settle down quietly and industriously to work, either at Tiverton or in London, and I will assist in the furnishing of a house for you and Clara."
Frederick made no satisfactory reply.
On the second evening after he had come home, Charlie Holstrom, having heard of his return, called to see him.
"A thousand welcomes back, old lad," exclaimed H., heartily shaking the hand of his old associate. "Why, my dear fellow, I've come over to bid you good bye, as I heard to-day that you are going to the Cannibal Islands."
Mr. Charlston and the others laughed heartily at the expression.
"It is only to Canada that I intend to ship myself," replied Frederick somewhat shyly.
"Worse, and worse!" retorted H. "Why, what do you expect to get there?"
"Get a farm for nothing, and make a fortune in five years," said Frederick.
"If the farm is to be given away for nothing I may venture to say, it will be worth nothing," replied H., and continued, "I had an acquaintance who went to Canada a few years ago with ��500; and having lived three years upon one of those 'nothing farms' or rather, living upon his money during that time, he returned to England utterly worth nothing. Why, Fred! such farms may be suitable enough for men of iron muscles and wooden stomachs, and who can work whether they eat or not;--men who have nothing to lose except their life, and would even sacrifice that for a small amount. But for either you or I to go there in search of a living, or anything else,