“But,” said the writer to her, “haven’t you ever seen the Bible?”
“Yes, I have seen missus a-readin’ on’t sometimes; but, law sakes! she’s just a-readin’ on’t ‘cause she could; don’t s’pose it did her no good, no way.”
She said she had been to one or two camp-meetings in her life, but “didn’t notice very particular.”
At all events, the story certainly made great impression on her, and had such an effect in improving her conduct, that the writer had great hopes of her.
On inquiring into her history, it was discovered that, by the laws of Ohio, she was legally entitled to her freedom, from the fact of her having been brought into the state, and left there, temporarily, by the consent of her mistress. These facts being properly authenticated before the proper authorities, papers attesting her freedom were drawn up, and it was now supposed that all danger of pursuit was over. After she had remained in the family for some months, word was sent, from various sources, to Professor Stowe, that the girl’s young master was over, looking for her, and that, if care were not taken, she would be conveyed back into slavery.
Professor Stowe called on the magistrate who had authenticated her papers, and inquired whether they were not sufficient to protect her. The reply was, “Certainly they are, in law, if she could have a fair hearing; but they will come to your house in the night, with an officer and a warrant; they will take her before Justice D——, and swear to her. He’s the man that does all this kind of business, and, he’ll deliver her up, and there’ll be an end to it.”
Mr. Stowe then inquired what could be done; and was recommended to carry her to some place of security till the inquiry for her was over. Accordingly, that night, a brother of the author, with Professor Stowe, performed for the fugitive that office which the senator is represented as performing for Eliza. They drove about ten miles on a solitary road, crossed the creek at a very dangerous fording, and presented themselves, at midnight, at the house of John Van Zandt, a noble-minded Kentuckian, who had performed the good deed which the author, in her story, ascribes to Van Tromp.
After some rapping at the door, the worthy owner of the mansion appeared, candle in hand, as has been narrated.
“Are you the man that would save a poor colored girl from kidnappers?” was the first question.
“Guess I am,” was the prompt response; “where is she?”