Chapter: I returned to my good grandmother's house. She had an interview with Mr.
Sands. When she asked him why he could not have left her one ewe
lamb,--whether there were not plenty of slaves who did not care about
character,--he made no answer, but he spoke kind and encouraging words. He
promised to care for my child, and to buy me, be the conditions what they
might.

I had not seen Dr. Flint for five days. I had never seen him since I made
the avowal to him. He talked of the disgrace I had brought on myself; how I
had sinned against my master, and mortified my old grandmother. He
intimated that if I had accepted his proposals, he, as a physician, could
have saved me from exposure. He even condescended to pity me. Could he have
offered wormwood more bitter? He, whose persecutions had been the cause of
my sin!

"Linda," said he, "though you have been criminal towards me, I feel for
you, and I can pardon you if you obey my wishes. Tell me whether the fellow
you wanted to marry is the father of your child. If you deceive me, you
shall feel the fires of hell."

I did not feel as proud as I had done. My strongest weapon with him was
gone. I was lowered in my own estimation, and had resolved to bear his
abuse in silence. But when he spoke contemptuously of the lover who had
always treated me honorably; when I remembered that but for _him_ I might
have been a virtuous, free, and happy wife, I lost my patience. "I have
sinned against God and myself," I replied; "but not against you."

He clinched his teeth, and muttered, "Curse you!" He came towards me, with
ill-suppressed rage, and exclaimed, "You obstinate girl! I could grind your
bones to powder! You have thrown yourself away on some worthless rascal.
You are weak-minded, and have been easily persuaded by those who don't care
a straw for you. The future will settle accounts between us. You are
blinded now; but hereafter you will be convinced that your master was your
best friend. My lenity towards you is a proof of it. I might have punished
you in many ways. I might have whipped till you fell dead under the lash.
But I wanted you to live; I would have bettered your condition. Others
cannot do it. You are my slave. Your mistress, disgusted by your conduct,
forbids you to return to the house; therefore I leave you here for the
present; but I shall see you often. I will call to-morrow."

He came with frowning brows, that showed a dissatisfied state of mind.
After asking about my health, he inquired whether my board was paid, and
who visited me. He then went on to say that he had neglected his duty; that
as a physician there were certain things that he ought to have explained to
me. Then followed talk such as would have made the most shameless blush. He
ordered me to stand up before him. I obeyed. "I command you," said he, "to
tell me whether the father of your child is white or black." I hesitated.
"Answer me this instant!" he exclaimed. I did answer. He sprang upon me
like a wolf, and grabbed my arm as if he would have broken it. "Do you love
him?" said he, in a hissing tone.

"I am thankful that I do not despise him," I replied.

He raised his hand to strike me; but it fell again. I don't know what
arrested the blow. He sat down, with lips tightly compressed. At last he
spoke. "I came here," said he, "to make you a friendly proposition; but
your ingratitude chafes me beyond endurance. You turn aside all my good
intentions towards you. I don't know what it is that keeps me from killing
you." Again he rose, as if he had a mind to strike me.

But he resumed. "On one condition I will forgive your insolence and crime.
You must henceforth have no communication of any kind with the father of
your child. You must not ask any thing from him, or receive any thing from
him. I will take care of you and your child. You had better promise this at
once, and not wait till you are deserted by him. This is the last act of
mercy I shall show towards you."

I said something about being unwilling to have my child supported by a man
who had cursed it and me also. He rejoined, that a woman who had sunk to my
level had no right to expect any thing else. He asked, for the last time,
would I accept his kindness? I answered that I would not.

"Very well," said he; "then take the consequences of your wayward course.
Never look to me for help. You are my slave, and shall always be my slave.
I will never sell you, that you may depend upon."

Hope died away in my heart as he closed the door after him. I had
calculated that in his rage he would sell me to a slave-trader; and I knew
the father of my child was on the watch to buy me.

About this time my uncle Phillip was expected to return from a voyage. The
day before his departure I had officiated as bridesmaid to a young friend.
My heart was then ill at ease, but my smiling countenance did not betray
it. Only a year had passed; but what fearful changes it had wrought! My
heart had grown gray in misery. Lives that flash in sunshine, and lives
that are born in tears, receive their hue from circumstances. None of us
know what a year may bring forth.

I felt no joy when they told me my uncle had come. He wanted to see me,
though he knew what had happened. I shrank from him at first; but at last
consented that he should come to my room. He received me as he always had
done. O, how my heart smote me when I felt his tears on my burning cheeks!
The words of my grandmother came to my mind,--"Perhaps your mother and
father are taken from the evil days to come." My disappointed heart could
now praise God that it was so. But why, thought I, did my relatives ever
cherish hopes for me? What was there to save me from the usual fate of
slave girls? Many more beautiful and more intelligent than I had
experienced a similar fate, or a far worse one. How could they hope that I
should escape?

My uncle's stay was short, and I was not sorry for it. I was too ill in
mind and body to enjoy my friends as I had done. For some weeks I was
unable to leave my bed. I could not have any doctor but my master, and I
would not have him sent for. At last, alarmed by my increasing illness,
they sent for him. I was very weak and nervous; and as soon as he entered
the room, I began to scream. They told him my state was very critical. He
had no wish to hasten me out of the world, and he withdrew.

When my babe was born, they said it was premature. It weighed only four
pounds; but God let it live. I heard the doctor say I could not survive
till morning. I had often prayed for death; but now I did not want to die,
unless my child could die too. Many weeks passed before I was able to leave
my bed. I was a mere wreck of my former self. For a year there was scarcely
a day when I was free from chills and fever. My babe also was sickly. His
little limbs were often racked with pain. Dr. Flint continued his visits,
to look after my health; and he did not fail to remind me that my child was
an addition to his stock of slaves.

I felt too feeble to dispute with him, and listened to his remarks in
silence. His visits were less frequent; but his busy spirit could not
remain quiet. He employed my brother in his office; and he was made the
medium of frequent notes and messages to me. William was a bright lad, and
of much use to the doctor. He had learned to put up medicines, to leech,
cup, and bleed. He had taught himself to read and spell. I was proud of my
brother, and the old doctor suspected as much. One day, when I had not seen
him for several weeks, I heard his steps approaching the door. I dreaded
the encounter, and hid myself. He inquired for me, of course; but I was
nowhere to be found. He went to his office, and despatched William with a
note. The color mounted to my brother's face when he gave it to me; and he
said, "Don't you hate me, Linda, for bringing you these things?" I told him
I could not blame him; he was a slave, and obliged to obey his master's
will. The note ordered me to come to his office. I went. He demanded to
know where I was when he called. I told him I was at home. He flew into a
passion, and said he knew better. Then he launched out upon his usual
themes,--my crimes against him, and my ingratitude for his forbearance. The
laws were laid down to me anew, and I was dismissed. I felt humiliated that
my brother should stand by, and listen to such language as would be
addressed only to a slave. Poor boy! He was powerless to defend me; but I
saw the tears, which he vainly strove to keep back. The manifestation of
feeling irritated the doctor. William could do nothing to please him. One
morning he did not arrive at the office so early as usual; and that
circumstance afforded his master an opportunity to vent his spleen. He was
put in jail. The next day my brother sent a trader to the doctor, with a
request to be sold. His master was greatly incensed at what he called his
insolence. He said he had put him there, to reflect upon his bad conduct,
and he certainly was not giving any evidence of repentance. For two days he
harassed himself to find somebody to do his office work; but every thing
went wrong without William. He was released, and ordered to take his old
stand, with many threats, if he was not careful about his future behavior.

As the months passed on, my boy improved in health. When he was a year old,
they called him beautiful. The little vine was taking deep root in my
existence, though its clinging fondness excited a mixture of love and pain.
When I was most sorely oppressed I found a solace in his smiles. I loved to
watch his infant slumbers; but always there was a dark cloud over my
enjoyment. I could never forget that he was a slave. Sometimes I wished
that he might die in infancy. God tried me. My darling became very ill. The
bright eyes grew dull, and the little feet and hands were so icy cold that
I thought death had already touched them. I had prayed for his death, but
never so earnestly as I now prayed for his life; and my prayer was heard.
Alas, what mockery it is for a slave mother to try to pray back her dying
child to life! Death is better than slavery. It was a sad thought that I
had no name to give my child. His father caressed him and treated him
kindly, whenever he had a chance to see him. He was not unwilling that he
should bear his name; but he had no legal claim to it; and if I had
bestowed it upon him, my master would have regarded it as a new crime, a
new piece of insolence, and would, perhaps, revenge it on the boy. O, the
serpent of Slavery has many and poisonous fangs!

 Linda is living at Aunt Martha's house, but she still belongs to Dr. Flint. One day, Dr. Flint shows up and demands to know the race of the baby's father. When he learns that he is a white man, Dr. Flint demands that Linda cut off ties with the guy. Plus, her plan has failed, since Dr. Flint is never going to sell her. Linda gets another visitor: Uncle Phillip, who's just back from a trip. After Linda gets really sick, her baby is born early. They're both in bad shape, and Linda is stuck in bed for an entire year. Luckily, they both pull through. Somehow, Dr. Flint still has the hots for Linda, and he gets William to pass her notes. This doesn't prevent him from throwing William in jail when he's late to work one day. At one year old, Linda's baby gets really sick. Linda prays for him to survive, even though she's pretty sure death is better than slavery.

