same town I did, and I had better go to her house, and have my daughter
meet me there. I accepted the proposition thankfully, and he agreed to
escort me to Brooklyn. We crossed Fulton ferry, went up Myrtle Avenue, and
stopped at the house he designated. I was just about to enter, when two
girls passed. My friend called my attention to them. I turned, and
recognized in the eldest, Sarah, the daughter of a woman who used to live
with my grandmother, but who had left the south years ago. Surprised and
rejoiced at this unexpected meeting, I threw my arms round her, and
inquired concerning her mother.

"You take no notice of the other girl," said my friend. I turned, and there
stood my Ellen! I pressed her to my heart, then held her away from me to
take a look at her. She had changed a good deal in the two years since I
parted from her. Signs of neglect could be discerned by eyes less observing
than a mother's. My friend invited us all to go into the house; but Ellen
said she had been sent of an errand, which she would do as quickly as
possible, and go home and ask Mrs. Hobbs to let her come and see me. It was
agreed that I should send for her the next day. Her companion, Sarah,
hastened to tell her mother of my arrival. When I entered the house, I
found the mistress of it absent, and I waited for her return. Before I saw
her, I heard her saying, "Where is Linda Brent? I used to know her father
and mother." Soon Sarah came with her mother. So there was quite a company
of us, all from my grandmother's neighborhood. These friends gathered round
me and questioned me eagerly. They laughed, they cried, and they shouted.
They thanked God that I had got away from my persecutors and was safe on
Long Island. It was a day of great excitement. How different from the
silent days I had passed in my dreary den!

The next morning was Sunday. My first waking thoughts were occupied with
the note I was to send to Mrs. Hobbs, the lady with whom Ellen lived. That
I had recently come into that vicinity was evident; otherwise I should have
sooner inquired for my daughter. It would not do to let them know I had
just arrived from the south, for that would involve the suspicion of my
having been harbored there, and might bring trouble, if not ruin, on
several people.

I like a straightforward course, and am always reluctant to resort to
subterfuges. So far as my ways have been crooked, I charge them all upon
slavery. It was that system of violence