ingratitude was a sore wound to my spirit. 8. CHAPTER VIII. THE SAME SUBJECT CONTINUED. Another evil that befell me about the same time, was equally afflicting. A negro-man that had fled from bondage in a neighbouring state, being sharply hunted, and about to be captured by the person that called him his property, I carried him to my house, and there concealed him for three days and mights, until his master had departed; "For," said I, "of a surety, slavery is a bitter pill, and one that cures neither the rheumatism nor the ague; and, therefore, why should my brother Pompey be compelled to swallow it?" My brother Pompey, having eaten, drunk, and slept at my expense for the three days mentioned, disappeared on the morning of the fourth before daylight, carrying with him twenty-seven pounds of silver, in spoons, teapots, and other vessels, the three watches belonging to myself, my nephew, and Abel Snipe, as well as Jonathan's best coat and trousers. Verily, I was confounded at the fellow's ingratitude, and the loss of my valuables, all of which, however, though broken up, it was my good fortune to recover, together with the three watches. The thief himself, being taken, was clapped into jail for a while, and then surrendered to his master, and carried back to bondage; and this stirring up the choler of the free Africans in town, they did naught but cry out upon me as the author of his misfortune, surrounding my house with a mob, and proceeding to the length of even burning it down. At least, the house taking fire, and manifestly by the act of an incendiary, it was charged by my friends upon these raging foolish people, though I was never able to prove it upon any one in particular. As my good fortune would have it, Abel Snipe had taken out a policy of ensurance, so that I recovered the money from the company; but not without going to law, the company averring that my humanity rendered me careless.