t
be thrown away; that I had a friend concealed near by, who would be glad
enough to take the place that had been provided for me. I told him about
poor Fanny, and the kind-hearted, noble fellow, who never turned his back
upon any body in distress, white or black, expressed his readiness to help
her. Aggie was much surprised when she found that we knew her secret. She
was rejoiced to hear of such a chance for Fanny, and arrangements were made
for her to go on board the vessel the next night. They both supposed that I
had long been at the north, therefore my name was not mentioned in the
transaction. Fanny was carried on board at the appointed time, and stowed
away in a very small cabin. This accommodation had been purchased at a
price that would pay for a voyage to England. But when one proposes to go
to fine old England, they stop to calculate whether they can afford the
cost of the pleasure; while in making a bargain to escape from slavery, the
trembling victim is ready to say, "take all I have, only don't betray me!"

The next morning I peeped through my loophole, and saw that it was dark and
cloudy. At night I received news that the wind was ahead, and the vessel
had not sailed. I was exceedingly anxious about Fanny, and Peter too, who
was running a tremendous risk at my instigation. Next day the wind and
weather remained the same. Poor Fanny had been half dead with fright when
they carried her on board, and I could readily imagine how she must be
suffering now. Grandmother came often to my den, to say how thankful she
was I did not go. On the third morning she rapped for me to come down to
the storeroom. The poor old sufferer was breaking down under her weight of
trouble. She was easily flurried now. I found her in a nervous, excited
state, but I was not aware that she had forgotten to lock the door behind
her, as usual. She was exceedingly worried about the detention of the
vessel. She was afraid all would be discovered, and then Fanny, and Peter,
and I, would all be tortured to death, and Phillip would be utterly ruined,
and her house would be torn down. Poor Peter! If he should die such a
horrible death as the poor slave James had lately done, and all for his
kindness in trying to help me, how dreadful it would be for us all! Alas,
the thought was familiar to me, and had sent many a sharp pang through my
heart. I tried to suppress my own anxiety, and speak soothingly to her. She
brought in some allusion to aunt Na