University of Virginia Library

20. CHAPTER XX.

Next morning after breakfast, we all three walked to
the bank to ascertain Hunter's claim in stock, and found
it correct—also the real property preciseley as he stated.
We returned to our lodgings after taking from the books
a memorandum of the exact amount, dates, &c.

Our next business was to see Hunter and adjust so
much of the business as was practicable that day: I
wished to see if any thing would be left to remunerate
Horton; neither was it my design to strip the creature
of every thing—this would have been barbarous.

I wished my uncle to be present, and Horton's presence
might not be amiss. But he had not appeared, and
I began to be alarmed on the account, lest the unhappy
man might be tempted to commit some desperate act.—
Hunter was yet in the ship, under guard, as he could not
have been brought ashore without betraying his crimes,
by securing him in jail.

I resolved, therefore, to keep him where he was until
our business was finally finished with him. Accordingly
I procured an attorney, and Sambo a hack, to convey his
master to the wharf, leaving instructions with the landlord
to send Horton thither, should he call during our absence.

I found Hunter with a long beard, his dress entirely
neglected, and very much reduced in flesh.

“Hunter,” said I, “how do you do?” giving him my
hand.

He seemed somewhat cheered by this friendly salutation:
I told him that an attorney waited in the cabin
with my uncle, to execute the conveyance of his property,
that I wished to know if he was perfectly willing of
his own accord, to transfer it—that it would not be valid
without, and that he must shave and dress, whilst the
lawyer was drawing up the writings, and go up to the

cabin. Sambo would assist him or help him to any thing
he might want.

“But,” said I, “Hunter, I wish you to understand
me distinctly; I believe you own the property which
you have stated to be yours—there is enough to pay the
bonds, and likewise for so much of my father's property
which was sacrificed for your debts, as well as his own:
you understand that the sacrifice of his property, of his
whole estate, and his consequent death, was owing to
your agency, was it not? speak Hunter!”

He seemed to hesitate—

“Sir,” said I, “I have no more to do with you then,
I shall go and dismiss the attorney.”

He dreaded a prosecution, and was wise enough to
know that I had it amply in my power to compel him
to pay me. He knew therefore that on the one hand he
might stand some chance to save his life, with the loss of
his property, but on the other he stood little chance for
either.

“Hunter,” said I, “I want nothing from you but
what is justly my own, and that I will have—so just say
whether you are willing to acknowledge the claim, and
willing to pay me in such a way as I have proposed?”

He answered that he was. “Well sir,” said I, “I will
go and request the lawyer to begin the writings.”—As
I walked from him he begged me, after giving instructions
to the lawyer to return, that he wished to speak to
me—.

“Very well, I shall return.”

When I returned to Hunter, he was in the act of fixing
himself up to appear above—“Well Hunter, here I
am, what do you want?”

“Oh, sir,” said he, “I have treated you and your
family so ill, that I am ashamed to tell you; I deserve
death, I acknowledge, but—”

“You wish to know your own fate,” said I, finding
that he hesitated.

“If you will be so good sir—”

“Hunter.” rejoined I, “taking your life cannot undo
the past, and I presume your are not fit to die.—If I
could have any assurance that you would reform, and

quit your evil practices, I would gladly intercede for
your life.

“But what security could you give, that you would
not resume your wickedness again? It is so prone in
you, that I much doubt whether you could live out of the
practice of that manner of life, in which you have hitherto
lived.

“It would be doing a great injury to society to allow
you to escape—we would be answerable to our God, our
country, and our consciences, for the lives you would
take.

“Your are a perfect ruffian, you are worse than wicked,
you know not how to be merciful, how can you expect
mercy, when you have shown none yourself?”

I expressed myself in this manner to him, to observe
whether it would produce any signs of repentance. He
began to weep, but there was not that sincerity in his
sorrow, that was evinced by Horton.

I told him “that he had very different men to deal
with from himself, and that his case would admit of no
question, if they were not.”

It actually began to be a question with me, whether I
was doing right or not, to suffer Hunter to escape: but
as the judges say, (if we have any doubts on our mind,)
we ought to lean to the side of mercy.

I then asked Hunter “what he was going to do with
Horton? that he had kept him in his employ ever since
he was able to do any thing, that he had corrupted his
morals, and on that account he was as dangerous to the
peace of society as he himself was, that he was now advanced
in life, and destitute of support—what are you
going to do for him?”

He disliked, I saw very clearly, to answer this question.
He at length stammered out “that if he had any
thing left, Horton might take it.”

“Then,” said I, “if you are pardoned what will you
have, you are old now, and have nothing. Your ill gotten
wealth has not throve with you.

“But if I were sure that you would reform and behave
yourself, I could venture to say, that either my uncle or
myself would support you.

“Your son, I suspect, is hung by this time—he broke
jail in Boston, for using, or attempting to use. violence
to my sister, and since my arrival in this city I have understood
that he was taken up for passing counterfeit
money.”

The more I conversed with the wretch, the more I was
prejudiced against him: I therefore pulled out his pocket-book
and gave it to him, telling him where I found it,
and how; that I had never had time to look at the papers
until last evening; that they were all safe, I believed.
He thanked me again, asked “if I knew in
what part of the country his son was?” I answered I
did not—that it made little odds where he was for all the
good he was likely to do, as he was bent upon the gallows
and no matter how soon he obtain his object.

Upon going into the cabin I found Horton there and
asked him if he had made any discovery respecting his
wife. He shook his head sorrowfully and intimated that
he had not.

The conveyance of the shares in Bank Stock being
finished, that respecting the two houses which Hunter
owned in the city I objected to, on the ground that they
ought to be valued—perhaps they might over-run the
amount due: however, if they should, the attorney remarked
“that as I intended to sell them I could return
the overplus”—I was not so sure respecting that,—I
should want a house for Mrs. Cary, and my uncle as he
only came to the country upon trial and might chuse to
reside in one of them. After hesitating some time, at
length I resolved to consult Hunter, and my uncle desired
him to be called. When he came and signed the conveyance
for the stock. I asked him what he thought his
real property was worth—that I did not wish it conveyed
without being valued by himself or some other person,
if I did not chuse to take it at his price. He replied
“that he could not tell at this time what was the
value, and the lawyer made out the conveyance, leaving
a blank for the consideration. I paid him for his trouble
and he departed.

We remained but a short time behind him, to know of
Hunter who he would prefer to value the property; he

answered he had no choice—that any two respectable
men might set a price on it. I observed that “I would
rather he would name some of his friends, if he had any;”
that as to my own part. I cared not much who valued it.
He then mentioned a Mr. S—, and said I could chuse
another myself.

This being understood, we left him: my uncle returning
to the hotel with Sambo, whilst I accompanied by
Jinkins and Horton, set out to have the property valued.

It was quite a show to see how Hunter and Horton
eyed each other: two mastiffs, eager to attack each other,
could not have looked more hostile. The sight filled me
with horror.

The property was valued at ninety six thousand dollars.
This added to the shares, which was four thousand
sixty-six each, made $112,264. I desired Horton
to go and stay with my uncle until we should return, taking
Jinkins with me as one of the witnesses to the conveyance.
We were not long in the transaction. Hunter
was well pleased with the valuation, and asked me
“how much I conceived to be behind.” I gave him a
memorandum of the amount of the whole I had received.
The bonds he could calculate at his leisure, saying I was
not determined whether I should exact interest or not
for the debts my father paid of his—that I did not know
the amount exactly, and I thought the best way would
be just to lump it, and be done with it.

True, half of the goods that were sacrificed were his,
but that he had never paid for them, and my father's
part was entirely sacrificed for that purpose, besides all
his real property: that this was all his own doings and
richly did he deserve to pay the utmost farthing.

There was agreeably to the appraisement (which can
only be referred to) ninety thousand dollars worth of
goods, which sold for about forty, or forty-five thousand
dollars.

Two houses and lots worth fifty thousand dollars each
at the lowest calculation, did not sell for more than half
that sum. “I shall exact the value of these at the time
when they were sold, undoubtedly, and very likely the
interest, which, between brothers, would be reckoned

just. The damage my family sustained through your
inhuman treatment is incalculable.”

Having said this I asked him “if he had any money
for present use, and whether he was well supplied with
necessaries,” he replied “that he wanted for nothing,”
and we left him.

Jinkins was well pleased that I was likely to be independent.
In the goodness of his heart, he could not help
observing “that he was glad the fellow had enough to
pay me, and that his lot was cast amongst such noble
hearted people.”

“If it had not been for you, dear Jinkins, and the best
of men, you would have had one less.”

He said he “was sorry for Horton, but that other d—I
was beyond every thing.”

“These pirates are mostly from the north,” said Jinkins:
“I should be afraid to live in a cold country like
this,—it's just a nest of cold hearted, cold blooded, heathen
sort of folks,—they look as shy at one, as if 'twas
old Davy—damme if I like to be amongst 'um, to tell
you the truth.”

He forgot that my uncle and I were born in the northern
states.

I enquired of him, as we walked alone, whether it
was a general practice with my uncle to sit up so late—
that his hours and mine by no means agreed—that I felt
quite unwell.

“O, he has no particular rule,” answered Jinkins,
“he is fond of company night or day.”

With such conversation we gained our lodgings.

“Well child how do'st thee and Hunter make it—do'st
think he'll pay thee—curse him—I wish thee was done
wi' him—'let him get out o' my sight—I hates the looks
o' him.”

I informed him that I had received one hundred and
twelve thousand two hundred and sixty-four dollars from
him, and that there were still one hundred and twelve
thousand two hundred and sixty-four dollars behind,
counting the interest only on the bonds, which were upwards
of twenty years, though I had calculated them at
twenty years only.

“Ah, the dog, thee oughten to bated him an ace—thee
has too much o' the Burlington blood in thee.”

“Perhaps it is all I can get,” replied I, “and much
more than I expected.”

“Thee'll have to divide with Horton here, just a sum
for gratuity: I'll make it to thee, my son, thee knows,
and it would seem doing one good turn for another, thee
understands me? and when I hears from Boston we'll
give Hunter a bit, and just let him go to the d—I his own
way.”

The men now arrived, who were the other witnesses
to the conveyance: after treating them with the best we
had, we all set out to have the conveyance proved, that
I might take possession of the property.

I was put in possession of the houses by the same Mr.
S—, who had been appointed by Hunter to value it.
This man, it appeared, acted as agent for him.

When I handed him the letter from Hunter, (which
was open) requesting him to put me in possession, he
seemed to be much surprised, and asked me “where was
Hunter himself? he would be glad to see him first?”

“Here is the conveyance, sir,” said I, “you see it is
signed by himself—you see the consideration and you
have written instructions to give me peaceable possession,
which I demand before these witnesses: if you do
not, you must abide by the consequences. I have no
more to say,” and was about to return, when he called
me and said, “he would give me possession.”

Whether he suspected the truth, as regarded Hunter's
situation, or whether he was ignorant of Hunter's character
and practices, I was at a loss to determine: certain
it was that he appeared to me to be afraid to enquire
further about him, yet I might have been mistaken.