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Updated: June 4, 2025
Appearances on every side were uniform, nor were there any marks by which the lid was distinguishable from its other surfaces. During his residence with Inglefield, many specimens of mechanical ingenuity were given by his servant. This was the workmanship of his own hands. I looked at it for some time, till the desire insensibly arose of opening it and examining its contents.
There was also a daughter of sixteen, whom nobody could look at without thinking of a rosebud almost blossomed. The only other person at the fireside was Robert Moore, formerly an apprentice of the blacksmith, but now his journeyman, and who seemed more like an own son of John Inglefield than did the pale and slender student. Only these four had kept New England's festival beneath that roof.
"Captain Inglefield now came running towards the ship, and ordered me to see if the ice was through it. On looking down into the hold, I saw all the beams, etcetera, falling about in a manner that would have been certain death to me had I ventured down there.
"Daughter," cried John Inglefield, between wrath and sorrow, "stay and be your father's blessing, or take his curse with you!" For an instant Prudence lingered and looked back into the fire-lighted room, while her countenance wore almost the expression as if she were struggling with a fiend who had power to seize his victim even within the hallowed precincts of her father's hearth.
That same night, among the painted beauties at the theatre of a neighboring city, there was one whose dissolute mirth seemed inconsistent with any sympathy for pure affections, and for the joys and griefs which are hallowed by them. Yet this was Prudence Inglefield.
While John Inglefield and his family were sitting round the hearth with the shadows dancing behind them on the wall, the outer door was opened, and a light footstep came along the passage. The latch of the inner door was lifted by sonic familiar hand, and a young girl came in, wearing a cloak and hood, which she took off, and laid on the table beneath the looking-glass.
On the evening of Thanksgiving day, John Inglefield, the blacksmith, sat in his elbow-chair, among those who had been keeping festival at his board.
Up that very channel, it has since been ascertained, the expedition under Sir John Franklin had gone, but had been compelled, as those in search of it soon were, to return southward. In the meantime, Commander Inglefield, who had first gone out in the Isabel, commissioned the Phoenix steam-sloop, with the Lady Franklin as a sailing-tender, and proceeded to Baffin's Bay.
In consequence of this action, Captain C Hotham was made a Commander of the Order of the Bath; Commander BJ Sulivan was posted; and Lieutenants Inglefield, Levinge, Doyle, and Key were made commanders; R Rowe, gunner's mate, was made a gunner, and W Ross, caulker's mate, was made a warrant officer, both of whom, though severely wounded, had refused to quit their quarters till the battle was over.
It was not my uncle's habitation to which I directed my steps. Inglefield was my friend. If my sister had existence, or was snatched from captivity, it was here that an asylum had been afforded to her, and here was I to seek the knowledge of my destiny.
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