ontrol, and, having violently assaulted her young mistress,
sprang into the river close by, and thus ended her love and her life
together.

Maria, who had been seriously abused, was carried home and put to bed,
and her father naturally demanded some explanation of the
extraordinary quarrel which had cost him a slave and very nearly a
daughter. The other slaves had no hesitation in recounting what they
had seen, or of saying what they thought, and the truth came out.
Annesley's master was, however, resolved to be certain, and sent him
into her room, while he and his wife listened to what passed at the
interview. Their stratagem had the desired success. They heard their
daughter express the most violent passion, which was in no way
returned by their slave. As they could not but acknowledge his
honourable feeling and action, they resolved to take no notice of what
had passed, but for their daughter's sake to give him his liberty.
Next day his master accompanied him to Dover; but instead of releasing
him--as he had promised his wife--sold him to a planter near
Chichester for the remainder of his term.

After various ups and downs, he was transferred to a planter in
Newcastle county, whose house was almost within sight of Drummond's
plantation. While in this employ he discovered that he was tracked by
the brothers of the Indian girl, who had sworn to avenge her untimely
fate, and nearly fell a victim to their rage, having been wounded by
one of them who lay in wait for him. By another accident, while he was
resting under a hedge which divided his master's ground from a
neighbouring plantation, he fell asleep, and did not awake until it
was perfectly dark. He was aroused by the sound of voices, and on
listening found that his mistress and Stephano, a slave on another
farm, were plotting to rob his master, and to flee together to Europe.
Repressing his desire to reveal the whole scheme to his master, he
took the first opportunity of informing his mistress that her infamy
was discovered, and that if she persevered in her design he would be
compelled to reveal all that he had overheard. The woman at first
pretended the utmost repentance, and not only earnestly promised that
she would never repeat her conduct, but by many excessive acts of
kindness led him to believe that her unlawful passion had changed its
object. Finding, however, that she could not prevail upon him either
to wink at her misdeeds or gratify her desires, she