Among the ladies who were acquainted with my grandmother, was one who had known her from childhood, and always been very friendly to her.  She had also known my mother and her children, and felt interested for them.  At this crisis of affairs she called to see my grandmother, as she not unfrequently did.  She observed the sad and troubled expression of her face, and asked if she knew where Linda was, and whether she was safe.  My grandmother shook her head, without answering.  “Come, Aunt Martha,” said the kind lady, “tell me all about it.  Perhaps I can do something to help you.”  The husband of this lady held many slaves, and bought and sold slaves.  She also held a number in her own name; but she treated them kindly, and would never allow any of them to be sold.  She was unlike the majority of slaveholders’ wives.  My grandmother looked earnestly at her.  Something in the expression of her face said “Trust me!” and she did trust her.  She listened attentively to the details of my story, and sat thinking for a while.  At last she said, “Aunt Martha, I pity you both.  If you think there is any chance of Linda’s getting to the Free States, I will conceal her for a time.  But first you must solemnly promise that my name shall never be mentioned.  If such a thing should become known, it would ruin me and my family.  No one in my house must know of it, except the cook.  She is so faithful that I would trust my own life with her; and I know she likes Linda.  It is a great risk; but I trust no harm will come of it.  Get word to Linda to be ready as soon as it is dark, before the patrols are out.  I will send the housemaids on errands, and Betty shall go to meet Linda.”  The place where we were to meet was designated and agreed upon.  My grandmother was unable to thank the lady for this noble deed; overcome by her emotions, she sank on her knees and sobbed like a child.

I received a message to leave my friend’s house at such an hour, and go to a certain place where a friend would be waiting for me.  As a matter of prudence no names were mentioned.  I had no means of conjecturing who I was to meet, or where I was going.  I did not like to move thus blindfolded, but I had no choice.  It would not do for me to remain where I was.  I disguised myself, summoned up courage to meet the worst, and went to the appointed place.  My friend Betty was there; she was the last person I expected to see.  We hurried along in silence.  The pain in my leg was so intense that it seemed as if I should drop but fear gave me strength.  We reached the house and entered unobserved.  Her first words were:  “Honey, now you is safe.  Dem devils ain’t coming to search dis house.  When I get you into missis’ safe place, I will bring some nice hot supper.  I specs you need it after all dis skeering.”  Betty’s vocation led her to think eating the most important thing in life.  She did not realize that my heart was too full for me to care much about supper.