friendly to mother, told me that she would not return until night. I
clasped my hands in despair and cried, "Oh! the white people have sold
me, and I had to run away to keep from being sent down the river."

This white lady, whose name I am sorry I cannot remember, sympathized
with me, as she knew my mother's story and had written many letters
for her, so she offered me the key of her house, which, fortunately,
fitted my mother's door, and I was soon inside, cowering with fear in
the darkness, magnifying every noise and every passing wind, until my
imagination had almost converted the little cottage into a boat, and I
was steaming down South, away from my mother, as fast as I could go.

Late at night mother returned, and was told all that had happened, and
after getting supper, she took me to a friend's house for
concealment, until the next day.

As soon as Mr. Mitchell had discovered my unlooked-for departure, he
was furious, for he did not think I had sense enough to run away; he
accused the coachman of helping me off, and, despite the poor man's
denials, hurried him away to the calaboose and put him under the lash,
in order to force a confession. Finding this course unavailing, he
offered a reward to the negro catchers, on the same evening, but their
efforts were equally fruitless.




CHAPTER IV.