I passed a large hotel, with perhaps fifteen or twenty men standing on the sidewalk in front. All seemed in a perfect buzz of excitement,—When I saw this company of men, the first thought was to pass over on the other side. "But I will neither turn to the right nor the left, but pass through their midst," was an impression that I followed; and so busily engaged were they in their excited conversation that they hardly looked to see the little passer-by, the subject of their thoughts and words. Said one:
"Great excitement in town to-day."
"Yes, sir; you can see a group of men at every street corner."
I smiled to myself, as I thought, "Little do you think this is the little old woman you are troubling yourselves over."
I soon was in Jeffersonville inquiring for Dr. Field's residence, and was shown the house across the street, and upon its front porch stood a little group—the doctor and family, with two ministers—watching me; and as I opened the gate and inquired if this was Dr. Field's residence:
"Yes, I am the Jason," said the doctor. "We're been looking for you,
Mrs. Haviland, every day since you've been in Louisville."
This was an unexpected salutation, and I felt at home again as I clasped their warm hands of friendship.
"How is it that you have knowledge of me?"
"Just walk in, and I'll show you the papers; haven't you seen them?"
I told him I had not, and knew nothing of it until just as I was leaving; the jailer told me there had been threats in the daily papers to arrest me. When I read these little scurrilous articles, calculated to inflame an already inflamed public, I wondered, as well as the doctor, that they had not found my whereabouts and made trouble. I hoped my Cincinnati friends had not seen this, as I had written them the reason of my delay, and sent the letter by the same boat that brought me to Louisville. I enjoyed sweet rest with these Christian friends, and attended with them their afternoon meeting. The minister who preached was as earnest an abolitionist as the doctor, and brother Proctor preached as radical an abolition sermon as I ever listened to; it seemed like an oasis in a desert.