But the Captain passed through without pause or inquiry, and in due course of time returned to his home, having committed no act in the least degree notable.
And so, as if nothing unusual had happened, he was seen, day after day, going about as of old, with not a sign of change in his deportment that any one could read.

In a week, Jacob Perkins returned to his home, fully assured that no harm was likely to visit him.
No event touching Captain Allen or his family, worthy of record, transpired for several years.

The only servants in the house were negro slaves, brought from a distance, and kept as much as possible away from others of their class in town.

Among these, the boy, John, grew up.

When he was ten years old, Jacob Perkins, though in some fear, performed the sacred duty promised to his mother on that memorable morning, when he looked upon her pale, statuesque countenance for the last time.