nished his story, Mr. Broadwell came in, and inquired what
I was doing there. I knew not what to say, and while I was thinking what
reply to make, he struck me over the head with the cowhide, the end of
which struck me over my right eye, sinking deep into the flesh, leaving
a scar which I carry to this day. Before I visited Lewis, he had
received fifty lashes. Mr. Broadwell gave him fifty lashes more after I
came out, as I was afterwards informed by Lewis himself.

The next day we proceeded to New Orleans, and put the gang in the same
negro-pen which we occupied before. In a short time, the planters came
flocking to the pen to purchase slaves. Before the slaves were exhibited
for sale, they were dressed and driven out into the yard. Some were set
to dancing, some to jumping, some to singing, and some to playing cards.
This was done to make them appear cheerful and happy. My business was to
see that they were placed in those situations before the arrival of the
purchasers, and I have often set them to dancing when their cheeks were
wet with tears. As slaves were in good demand at that time, they were
all soon disposed of, and we again set out for St. Louis.

On our arrival, Mr. Walker purchased a farm five or six miles from the
city. He had no family, but made a housekeeper of one of his female
slaves. Poor Cynthia! I knew her well. She was a quadroon, and one of
the most beautiful women I ever saw. She was a native of St. Louis, and
bore an irreproachable character for virtue and propriety of conduct.
Mr. Walker bought her for the New Orleans market, and took her down with
him on one of the trips that I made with him. Never shall I forget the
circumstances of that voyage! On the first night that we were on board
the steamboat, he directed me to put her into a state-room he had
provided for her, apart from the other slaves. I had seen too much of
the workings of slavery, not to know what this meant. I accordingly
watched him into the state-room, and listened to hear what passed
between them. I heard him make his base offers, and her reject them. He
told her that if she would accept his vile proposals, he would take her
back with him to St. Louis, and establish her as his housekeeper at his
farm. But if she persisted in rejecting them, he would sell her as a
field hand on the worst plantation on the river. Neither threats nor
bribes prevailed, however, and he retired, disappointed of his prey.

The next morning, poor Cyn