But now comes the pinch of the case, the case of conscience to me even at this moment.  Emboldened by the cruel speech just recited, my captors enclosed me, and said, “Come now, this matter may easily be settled without you going to jail; who do you belong to, and where did you come from?”

The facts here demanded were in my breast.  I knew according to the law of slavery, who I belonged to and where I came from, and I must now do one of three things—­I must refuse to speak at all, or I must communicate the fact, or I must tell an untruth.  How would an untutored slave, who had never heard of such a writer as Archdeacon Paley, be likely to act in such a dilemma?  The first point decided, was, the facts in this case are my private property.  These men have no more right to them than a highway robber has to my purse.  What will be the consequence if I put them in possession of the facts.  In forty-eight hours, I shall have received perhaps one hundred lashes, and be on my way to the Louisiana cotton fields.  Of what service will it be to them.  They will get a paltry sum of two hundred dollars.  Is not my liberty worth more to me than two hundred dollars are to them?

I resolved therefore, to insist that I was free.  This not being satisfactory without other evidence, they tied my hands and set out, and went to a magistrate who lived about half a mile distant.  It so happened, that when we arrived at his house he was not at home.  This was to them a disappointment, but to me it was a relief; but I soon learned by their conversation, that there was still another magistrate in the neighbourhood, and that they would go to him.  In about twenty minutes, and after climbing fences and jumping ditches, we, captors and captive, stood before his door, but it was after the same manner as before—­he was not at home.  By this time the day had worn away to one or two o’clock, and my captors evidently began to feel somewhat impatient of the loss of time.  We were about a mile and a quarter from the tavern.  As we set out on our return, they began to parley.  Finding it was difficult for me to get over fences with, my hands tied, they untied me, and said, “Now John,” that being the name they had given me, “if you have run away from any one, it would be much better for you to tell us!” but I continued to affirm that I was free.  I knew, however, that my situation was very critical, owing to the shortness of the distance I must be from home:  my advertisement might overtake me at any moment.

On our way back to the tavern, we passed through a small skirt of wood, where I resolved to make an effort to escape again.  One of my captors was walking on either side of me; I made a sudden turn, with my left arm sweeping the legs of one of my captors from under him; I left him nearly standing on his head, and took to my heels.  As soon as they could recover they both took after me.  We had to mount a fence.  This I did most successfully, and making across an open field towards another wood; one of my captors being a long-legged man, was in advance of the other, and consequently nearing me.  We had a hill to rise, and during the ascent he gained on me.  Once more I thought of self-defence.  I am trying to escape peaceably, but this man is determined that I shall not.