"Then I want, if it is possible, to send a line down to Monsieur Duchesne to let him know that his wife and daughter have escaped and are in a place of safety. He must be in a terrible state. The question is, how would it be possible to send such a note?"
"Me tink dat me could manage it, sah. My grandson Pete bery sharp boy. Me tink he might manage to get down to de town, but de letter must be a bery lillie one, so dat he can hide it in him woolly head. He might be searched, and dey kill 'im for suah if dey find he take letter to white man. He sharp as a needle, and often take messages from one of our slabes to anoder on plantation eber so far away. Me quite suah dat he bery glad to carry letter for mam'selle—make him as proud as peacock. When dey in der senses all de slabes lobe her because she allus speaks kindly to dem. He go suah enough, and bring message back."
"It is lucky that I have a pencil with me," Nat said, and drawing out a pocket-book he tore out a leaf. "Now, if you will tell me what to say, Myra, I will write in your name." He went over to the candle. "You must cut it very short, you know. I will write it as small as I can, but you must not send more than one leaf."
Dearest Papa, Myra dictated, we have got away. Dinah warned us in time, and mamma, Nat, and I ran up through the shrubbery and the cane-fields to the forest. When it got dark—"After dark" Nat put in, "you must not use more words than is necessary "—Nat went down, found Dinah, and brought her up, and they brought lots of things for us, and next morning carried mamma to this place, which is in the mountains and very safe. Mamma has got fever from the fright we had, but Dinah says she will not be ill long. We are both dressed up in Dinah's clothes, and Nat and I have been stained brown, and we look like mulattoes. Do not be anxious about us; the negroes may search everywhere without finding us. Nat has a brace of pistols, and mamma and I have one each, and he will take care of us and bring us down safe as soon as Dinah thinks it can be done. I hope to see you again soon.
Your most loving
MYRA.
"That just fills it," Nat said as he rolled it up into a little ball.
Dinah looked at it doubtfully.
"I'se feared dat too big to hide in him wool," she said; "it bery kinky."
"Never mind that. He must manage to straighten it out and sew it somewhere in his clothes. What time will you start, Dinah?"