Just as he finished his story, Mr. Broadwell came in, and inquired what I was doing there.  I knew not what to say, and while I was thinking what reply to make, he struck me over the head with the cowhide, the end of which struck me over my right eye, sinking deep into the flesh, leaving a scar which I carry to this day.  Before I visited Lewis, he had received fifty lashes.  Mr. Broadwell gave him fifty lashes more after I came out, as I was afterwards informed by Lewis himself.

The next day we proceeded to New Orleans, and put the gang in the same negro-pen which we occupied before.  In a short time, the planters came flocking to the pen to purchase slaves.  Before the slaves were exhibited for sale, they were dressed and driven out into the yard.  Some were set to dancing, some to jumping, some to singing, and some to playing cards.  This was done to make them appear cheerful and happy.  My business was to see that they were placed in those situations before the arrival of the purchasers, and I have often set them to dancing when their cheeks were wet with tears.  As slaves were in good demand at that time, they were all soon disposed of, and we again set out for St. Louis.

On our arrival, Mr. Walker purchased a farm five or six miles from the city.  He had no family, but made a housekeeper of one of his female slaves.  Poor Cynthia!  I knew her well.  She was a quadroon, and one of the most beautiful women I ever saw.  She was a native of St. Louis, and bore an irreproachable character for virtue and propriety of conduct.  Mr. Walker bought her for the New Orleans market, and took her down with him on one of the trips that I made with him.  Never shall I forget the circumstances of that voyage!  On the first night that we were on board the steamboat, he directed me to put her into a state-room he had provided for her, apart from the other slaves.  I had seen too much of the workings of slavery, not to know what this meant.  I accordingly watched him into the state-room, and listened to hear what passed between them.  I heard him make his base offers, and her reject them.  He told her that if she would accept his vile proposals, he would take her back with him to St. Louis, and establish her as his housekeeper at his farm.  But if she persisted in rejecting them, he would sell her as a field hand on the worst plantation on the river.  Neither threats nor bribes prevailed, however, and he retired, disappointed of his prey.

The next morning, poor Cynthia told me what had past, and bewailed her sad fate with floods of tears.  I comforted and encouraged her all I could; but I foresaw but too well what the result must be.  Without entering into any farther particulars, suffice it to say that Walker performed his part of the contract, at that time.  He took her back to St. Louis, established her as his mistress and housekeeper at his farm, and before I left, he had two children by her.  But, mark the end!  Since I have been at the North, I have been credibly informed that Walker has been married, and, as a previous measure, sold poor Cynthia and her four children (she having had two more since I came away) into hopeless bondage!