After a while my mistress sent for me to come to her room.  Her first question was, “Did you know you were to sleep in the doctor’s room?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Who told you?”

“My master.”

“Will you answer truly all the questions I ask?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Tell me, then, as you hope to be forgiven, are you innocent of what I have accused you?”

“I am.”

She handed me a Bible, and said, “Lay your hand on your heart, kiss this holy book, and swear before God that you tell me the truth.”

I took the oath she required, and I did it with a clear conscience.

“You have taken God’s holy word to testify your innocence,” said she.  “If you have deceived me, beware!  Now take this stool, sit down, look me directly in the face, and tell me all that has passed between your master and you.”

I did as she ordered.  As I went on with my account her color changed frequently, she wept, and sometimes groaned.  She spoke in tones so sad, that I was touched by her grief.  The tears came to my eyes; but I was soon convinced that her emotions arose from anger and wounded pride.  She felt that her marriage vows were desecrated, her dignity insulted; but she had no compassion for the poor victim of her husband’s perfidy.  She pitied herself as a martyr; but she was incapable of feeling for the condition of shame and misery in which her unfortunate, helpless slave was placed.  Yet perhaps she had some touch of feeling for me; for when the conference was ended, she spoke kindly, and promised to protect me.  I should have been much comforted by this assurance if I could have had confidence in it; but my experiences in slavery had filled me with distrust.  She was not a very refined woman, and had not much control over her passions.  I was an object of her jealousy, and, consequently, of her hatred; and I knew I could not expect kindness or confidence from her under the circumstances in which I was placed.  I could not blame her.  Slaveholders’ wives feel as other women would under similar circumstances.  The fire of her temper kindled from small-sparks, and now the flame became so intense that the doctor was obliged to give up his intended arrangement.

I knew I had ignited the torch, and I expected to suffer for it afterwards; but I felt too thankful to my mistress for the timely aid she rendered me to care much about that.  She now took me to sleep in a room adjoining her own.  There I was an object of her especial care, though not to her especial comfort, for she spent many a sleepless night to watch over me.  Sometimes I woke up, and found her bending over me.  At other times she whispered in my ear, as though it was her husband who was speaking to me, and listened to hear what I would answer.  If she startled me, on such occasions, she would glide stealthily away; and the next morning she would tell me I had been talking in my sleep, and ask who I was talking to.  At last, I began to be fearful for my life.  It had been often threatened; and you can imagine, better than I can describe, what an unpleasant sensation it must produce to wake up in the dead of night and find a jealous woman bending over you.  Terrible as this experience was, I had fears that it would give place to one more terrible.