Chapter: I never could tell how we reached the wharf. My brain was all of a whirl,
and my limbs tottered under me. At an appointed place we met my uncle
Phillip, who had started before us on a different route, that he might
reach the wharf first, and give us timely warning if there was any danger.
A row-boat was in readiness. As I was about to step in, I felt something
pull me gently, and turning round I saw Benny, looking pale and anxious. He
whispered in my ear, "I've been peeping into the doctor's window, and he's
at home. Good by, mother. Don't cry; I'll come." He hastened away. I
clasped the hand of my good uncle, to whom I owed so much, and of Peter,
the brave, generous friend who had volunteered to run such terrible risks
to secure my safety. To this day I remember how his bright face beamed with
joy, when he told me he had discovered a safe method for me to escape. Yet
that intelligent, enterprising, noble-hearted man was a chattel! Liable, by
the laws of a country that calls itself civilized, to be sold with horses
and pigs! We parted in silence. Our hearts were all too full for words!

Swiftly the boat glided over the water. After a while, one of the sailors
said, "Don't be down-hearted, madam. We will take you safely to your
husband, in ----." At first I could not imagine what he meant; but I had
presence of mind to think that it probably referred to something the
captain had told him; so I thanked him, and said I hoped we should have
pleasant weather.

When I entered the vessel the captain came forward to meet me. He was an
elderly man, with a pleasant countenance. He showed me to a little box of a
cabin, where sat my friend Fanny. She started as if she had seen a spectre.
She gazed on me in utter astonishment, and exclaimed, "Linda, can this be
_you_? or is it your ghost?" When we were locked in each other's arms, my
overwrought feelings could no longer be restrained. My sobs reached the
ears of the captain, who came and very kindly reminded us, that for his
safety, as well as our own, it would be prudent for us not to attract any
attention. He said that when there was a sail in sight he wished us to keep
below; but at other times, he had no objection to our being on deck. He
assured us that he would keep a good lookout, and if we acted prudently, he
thought we should be in no danger. He had represented us as women going to
meet our husbands in ----. We thanked him, and promised to observe
carefully all the directions he gave us.

Fanny and I now talked by ourselves, low and quietly, in our little cabin.
She told me of the suffering she had gone through in making her escape, and
of her terrors while she was concealed in her mother's house. Above all,
she dwelt on the agony of separation from all her children on that dreadful
auction day. She could scarcely credit me, when I told her of the place
where I had passed nearly seven years. "We have the same sorrows," said I.
"No," replied she, "you are going to see your children soon, and there is
no hope that I shall ever even hear from mine."

The vessel was soon under way, but we made slow progress. The wind was
against us, I should not have cared for this, if we had been out of sight
of the town; but until there were miles of water between us and our
enemies, we were filled with constant apprehensions that the constables
would come on board. Neither could I feel quite at ease with the captain
and his men. I was an entire stranger to that class of people, and I had
heard that sailors were rough, and sometimes cruel. We were so completely
in their power, that if they were bad men, our situation would be dreadful.
Now that the captain was paid for our passage, might he not be tempted to
make more money by giving us up to those who claimed us as property? I was
naturally of a confiding disposition, but slavery had made me suspicious of
every body. Fanny did not share my distrust of the captain or his men. She
said she was afraid at first, but she had been on board three days while
the vessel lay in the dock, and nobody had betrayed her, or treated her
otherwise than kindly.

The captain soon came to advise us to go on deck for fresh air. His
friendly and respectful manner, combined with Fanny's testimony, reassured
me, and we went with him. He placed us in a comfortable seat, and
occasionally entered into conversation. He told us he was a Southerner by
birth, and had spent the greater part of his life in the Slave States, and
that he had recently lost a brother who traded in slaves. "But," said he,
"it is a pitiable and degrading business, and I always felt ashamed to
acknowledge my brother in connection with it." As we passed Snaky Swamp, he
pointed to it, and said, "There is a slave territory that defies all the
laws." I thought of the terrible days I had spent there, and though it was
not called Dismal Swamp, it made me feel very dismal as I looked at it.

I shall never forget that night. The balmy air of spring was so refreshing!
And how shall I describe my sensations when we were fairly sailing on
Chesapeake Bay? O, the beautiful sunshine! the exhilarating breeze! And I
could enjoy them without fear or restraint. I had never realized what grand
things air and sunlight are till I had been deprived of them.

Ten days after we left land we were approaching Philadelphia. The captain
said we should arrive there in the night, but he thought we had better wait
till morning, and go on shore in broad daylight, as the best way to avoid
suspicion.

I replied, "You know best. But will you stay on board and protect us?"

He saw that I was suspicious, and he said he was sorry, now that he had
brought us to the end of our voyage, to find I had so little confidence in
him. Ah, if he had ever been a slave he would have known how difficult it
was to trust a white man. He assured us that we might sleep through the
night without fear; that he would take care we were not left unprotected.
Be it said to the honor of this captain, Southerner as he was, that if
Fanny and I had been white ladies, and our passage lawfully engaged, he
could not have treated us more respectfully. My intelligent friend, Peter,
had rightly estimated the character of the man to whose honor he had
intrusted us. The next morning I was on deck as soon as the day dawned. I
called Fanny to see the sun rise, for the first time in our lives, on free
soil; for such I _then_ believed it to be. We watched the reddening sky,
and saw the great orb come up slowly out of the water, as it seemed. Soon
the waves began to sparkle, and every thing caught the beautiful glow.
Before us lay the city of strangers. We looked at each other, and the eyes
of both were moistened with tears. We had escaped from slavery, and we
supposed ourselves to be safe from the hunters. But we were alone in the
world, and we had left dear ties behind us; ties cruelly sundered by the
demon Slavery.

 Northward Bound Fanny and Harriet reunited on the ship and were overjoyed to be with each other. They were pleased that the white captain was so kind to them, explaining that he thought the slave trade was "a pitiable and degrading business. He treated them both with immense respect and their journey to the Free states was a pleasant one

