PARKER HOUSE, School street, Boston, Oct. 18th, ’56.

    MY DEAR SIR:—­I can hardly express the pleasure I feel at the
    receipt of your kind letter; but allow me to thank you for the
    same.

And now I will tell you my reasons for going to California.  Mrs. Tarrol, a cousin of my husband, has sent for me.  She says I can do much better there than in Boston.  And as I have my children’s welfare to look to, I have concluded to go.  Of course I shall be just as likely to hear from home there as here.  Please tell Mr. Bagnale I shall expect one letter from him before I leave here.

    I should like to hear from my brothers and sisters once more,
    and let me hear every particular.  You never can know how anxious
    I am to hear from them; do please impress this upon their minds.

I have written two letters to Dr. Lundy and never received an answer.  I heard Mrs. Lundy was dead, and thought that might possibly be the reason he had not replied to me.  Please tell the Doctor I should take it as a great favor if he would write me a few lines.

I suppose you think I am going to live with my husband again.  Let me assure you ’tis no such thing.  My mind is as firm as ever.  And believe me, in going away from Boston, I am going away from him, for I have heard he is living somewhere near.  He has been making inquiries about me, but that can make no difference in my feelings to him.  I hope that yourself, wife and family are all quite well.  Please remember me to them all.  Do me the favor to give my love to all inquiring friends.  I should be most happy to have any letters of introduction you may think me worthy of, and I trust I shall ever remain

    Yours faithfully,

    REBECCA JONES.

P.S.—­I do not know if I shall go this Fall, or in the Spring.  It will depend upon the letter I receive from California, but whichever it may be, I shall be happy to hear from you very soon.

Isaiah, who was a fellow-servant with Rebecca, and was included in the reward offered by Hall for Rebecca, etc., was a young man about twenty-three years of age, a mulatto, intelligent and of prepossessing manners.  A purely ardent thirst for liberty prompted him to flee; although he declared that he had been treated very badly, and had even suffered severely from being shamefully “beaten.”  He had, however, been permitted to hire his time by the year, for which one hundred and twenty dollars were regularly demanded by his owner.  Young as he was, he was a married man, with a wife and two children, to whom he was devoted.  He had besides two brothers and two sisters for whom he felt a warm degree of brotherly affection; yet when the hour arrived for him to accept a chance for freedom at the apparent sacrifice of these dearest ties of kindred, he was found heroic enough for this painful ordeal, and to give up all for freedom.