"'Thou wert born my slave,' said my lady, 'I will take no money for thee.'
"'Take double, lady dear, but O, let me go!'
"'If thou wishest to be married,' said my mistress, 'I will find thee a good and able husband, and thou shalt bear me children, even as thy mother did before thee; but I will not let thee go free.'
"In my despair I prayed, I entreated, with tears blinding my eyes. I promised that my children yet unborn should be her slaves, if she would only let me go.
"It was all in vain. I gathered up my silver and returned to my slave's life, hopelessly defeated. I soon recovered from my disappointment, however, because I was strengthened by the determination to escape at the first opportunity that offered itself to me. This enabled me to bear my captivity bravely. My mistress distrusted me for a long time; my companions, seeing that I had fallen into disgrace, pitied me, but I did my best to show myself willing, obedient, and cheerful, until, when nearly two whole years had passed away, my mistress gradually took me again into her confidence, and at last arranged a marriage for me with Nai Tim, one of her favorite men-slaves. To all her plans I offered not a word of objection. I pretended that I was really pleased at the prospect of being free to spend six months of every year with my husband.
"The day before my marriage I was sent to see Nai Tim's mother, with a small present from my mistress. Two strong women accompanied me. Hidden in my p'ha nung (under-skirt) was my purchase-money. As soon as we entered my future mother-in-law's house, I requested permission to speak with her alone. Supposing that I had some private communication to make to her from my mistress, she took me into the back part of the house, and I seated myself on the edge of the bamboo raft, which kept her little hut afloat on the Mèinam, rushing by so strong and swift. Without giving her time to think, I told her my whole story from beginning to end, put the money into her hands, and before the startled woman could refuse or remonstrate I plunged with one sudden bound into the bosom of the broad river. I heard a shriek above me as I disappeared under the waters that received me into their cool, refreshing depths.
"How desperately I swam through the strong currents, coming up to the surface from time to time to draw a long breath, then diving back into its protecting shelter again! Finding my strength failing me, I made for the opposite bank, climbed its steep sides, and dried my clothes in the soft, delicious breezes that came upon me as if just let free from the highest heavens. Filled with the inspiration of freedom and of love, I had accomplished that which had been the beginning and the ending of all my thoughts for so long a time. For one moment it seemed to me an impossibility, but on the next my joy was so excessive that I stooped down and kissed the earth, and then laughed outright.
"From day to day my soul had been slowly withering away, now it blossomed forth afresh as if it had never known a moment of sorrow. My glad laughter came back to me, and in very truth, lady, I shall never again rejoice and sing in the desert places of my heart, or in the solitary places of my native land, as I did on that day. In my extreme emotion I forgot that night was a possibility. I could do nothing but rejoice. Suddenly the sun set. The night descended. Darkness covered the earth as with a mantle; the wind began to blow in gusts; I heard strange sounds,—sounds which seemed to come, not from the earth, but from some frightful realm beyond. But I knew there were angels who heard the cries of human distress. I prayed to them to come and hover near me, and as I prayed a deep sleep came upon me.
"When I woke the stars were in the sky, but the strange noises disturbed me so that I fell on my knees and cried, 'O God! where art thou? O, bring the day! come with thy swift chariot and bring the light! come and help thy unworthy handmaiden!' 'To believe,' says the prophet, 'is to have the world renewed every day.' So in answer to my prayer came the angel Gibhrayeel and snatched away the dark mantle of P'hra Khām (the god of night), and swift came P'hra Athiet (the god of day), scattering the shadowy monsters of the world of night, and making his glory fill my heart with praise, even as it filled my glad eyes with light.
"I had been dazzled with the idea of liberty, I had thought only of getting free. But now came the questions, Where shall I go? Who will employ me? And the answer was clear to me. There was no one in all this vast city to whom I could turn but the merchant and his slave-woman D'hamni, and to them I went. It was evening when I entered the hut of the slave D'hamni, footsore, hungry, and weary. D'hamni was overjoyed to see me; she gave me food and shelter and her best robe.