Mr. King returned to the carriage, and saying, "This is the place," he assisted his lady to alight. Returning to the farmer, he said: "We have come to ask you about a young colored woman, named Henriet Falkner. Her husband rendered service to a dear young friend of ours in the army, and we would be glad to repay the obligation by kindness to her."
"Walk in," said the Quaker. He showed them into a neat, plainly furnished parlor. "Where art thou from?" he inquired.
"From Boston," was the reply.
"What is thy name?"
"Mr. King."
"All men are called Mister," rejoined the Quaker. "What is thy given name?"
"My name is Alfred Royal King; and this is my wife, Rosa King."
"Hast thou brought a letter from the woman's husband?" inquired Friend
Joseph.
"No," replied Mr. King. "I saw George Falkner in Washington, a fortnight ago, when I went to seek the body of our young friend; but I did not then think of coming here. If you doubt me, you can write to William Lloyd Garrison or Wendell Phillips, and inquire of them whether Alfred R. King is capable of deceiving."
"I like thy countenance, Friend Alfred, and I think thou art honest," rejoined the Quaker; "but where colored people are concerned, I have known very polite and fair-spoken men to tell falsehoods."