My uncle Phillip kept watch over the gate until our brief interview was over.  Early the next morning, I seated myself near the little aperture to examine the newspaper.  It was a piece of the New York Herald; and, for once, the paper that systematically abuses the colored people, was made to render them a service.  Having obtained what information I wanted concerning streets and numbers, I wrote two letters, one to my grandmother, the other to Dr. Flint.  I reminded him how he, a gray-headed man, had treated a helpless child, who had been placed in his power, and what years of misery he had brought upon her.  To my grandmother, I expressed a wish to have my children sent to me at the north, where I could teach them to respect themselves, and set them a virtuous example; which a slave mother was not allowed to do at the south.  I asked her to direct her answer to a certain street in Boston, as I did not live in New York, though I went there sometimes.  I dated these letters ahead, to allow for the time it would take to carry them, and sent a memorandum of the date to the messenger.  When my friend came for the letters, I said, “God bless and reward you, Peter, for this disinterested kindness.  Pray be careful.  If you are detected, both you and I will have to suffer dreadfully.  I have not a relative who would dare to do it for me.”  He replied, “You may trust to me, Linda.  I don’t forget that your father was my best friend, and I will be a friend to his children so long as God lets me live.”

It was necessary to tell my grandmother what I had done, in order that she might be ready for the letter, and prepared to hear what Dr. Flint might say about my being at the north.  She was sadly troubled.  She felt sure mischief would come of it.  I also told my plan to aunt Nancy, in order that she might report to us what was said at Dr. Flint’s house.  I whispered it to her through a crack, and she whispered back, “I hope it will succeed.  I shan’t mind being a slave all my life, if I can only see you and the children free.”

I had directed that my letters should be put into the New York post office on the 20th of the month.  On the evening of the 24th my aunt came to say that Dr. Flint and his wife had been talking in a low voice about a letter he had received, and that when he went to his office he promised to bring it when he came to tea.  So I concluded I should hear my letter read the next morning.  I told my grandmother Dr. Flint would be sure to come, and asked her to have him sit near a certain door, and leave it open, that I might hear what he said.  The next morning I took my station within sound of that door, and remained motionless as a statue.  It was not long before I heard the gate slam, and the well-known footsteps enter the house.  He seated himself in the chair that was placed for him, and said, “Well, Martha, I’ve brought you a letter from Linda.  She has sent me a letter, also.  I know exactly where to find her; but I don’t choose to go to Boston