To this day I feel grateful to the gentleman who gave me this timely information.  It nerved me to immediate action.

XVII.  The Flight.

Mr. Flint was hard pushed for house servants, and rather than lose me he had restrained his malice.  I did my work faithfully, though not, of course, with a willing mind.  They were evidently afraid I should leave them.  Mr. Flint wished that I should sleep in the great house instead of the servants’ quarters.  His wife agreed to the proposition, but said I mustn’t bring my bed into the house, because it would scatter feathers on her carpet.  I knew when I went there that they would never think of such a thing as furnishing a bed of any kind for me and my little ones.  I therefore carried my own bed, and now I was forbidden to use it.  I did as I was ordered.  But now that I was certain my children were to be put in their power, in order to give them a stronger hold on me, I resolved to leave them that night.  I remembered the grief this step would bring upon my dear old grandmother, and nothing less than the freedom of my children would have induced me to disregard her advice.  I went about my evening work with trembling steps.  Mr. Flint twice called from his chamber door to inquire why the house was not locked up.  I replied that I had not done my work.  “You have had time enough to do it,” said he.  “Take care how you answer me!”

I shut all the windows, locked all the doors, and went up to the third story, to wait till midnight.  How long those hours seemed, and how fervently I prayed that God would not forsake me in this hour of utmost need!  I was about to risk every thing on the throw of a die; and if I failed, O what would become of me and my poor children?  They would be made to suffer for my fault.

At half past twelve I stole softly down stairs.  I stopped on the second floor, thinking I heard a noise.  I felt my way down into the parlor, and looked out of the window.  The night was so intensely dark that I could see nothing.  I raised the window very softly and jumped out.  Large drops of rain were falling, and the darkness bewildered me.  I dropped on my knees, and breathed a short prayer to God for guidance and protection.  I groped my way to the road, and rushed towards the town with almost lightning speed.  I arrived at my grandmother’s house, but dared not see her.  She would say, “Linda, you are killing me;” and I knew that would unnerve me.  I tapped softly at the window of a room, occupied by a woman, who had lived in the house several years.  I knew she was a faithful friend, and could be trusted with my secret.  I tapped several times before she heard me.  At last she raised the window, and I whispered, “Sally, I have run away.  Let me in, quick.”  She opened the door softly, and said in low tones, “For God’s sake, don’t.  Your grandmother is trying to buy you and de chillern.  Mr. Sands was here last week.  He tole her he was going away on business, but he wanted her to go ahead about buying you and de chillern, and he would help her all he could.  Don’t run away, Linda.  Your grandmother is all bowed down wid trouble now.”