These hours of toil and danger.”
The next day I penned a letter to Major Rylander, exhorting him, if he had any fear of God before his eyes, or any spark of humanity in his breast, to have me released from my miserable cell, though it were to take me to execution. I committed it to the care of a negro, who was to convey it to the guard, who in turn was to present it to Major Rylander. Whether the latter ever received it, I never knew, but certainly if he did, he never noticed it.
[CHAPTER XV.]
An Earnest Prayer—What came of it—A Skeptic—Fiend-Stratagem—Reflections and Opinions on the “Peculiar Institution.”
Night again found me still suffering, and still a captive. The next day I heard from Captain Crawford that the prayer which I put up that evening to the Throne of Grace was rather eccentric, very strong, and directed specially to the case of our oppressive jailor. I suppose it must have been rather so, for the jailor visited me the next day. His house was in the prison yard directly opposite my window.
Entering my cell, as I have said, he ordered me to follow him. I did so, not knowing what fate I was about to meet. When out of hearing of my fellow-prisoners, he said:
“Who is that who prays in this prison every night? It is you, I suspect.”
“I presume so,” replied I, “for it is my habit to pray night and morning; for I am told in the good Book to pray for my enemies, and I apprehend you are one.”