The magnitude of this offer can hardly be appreciated.  It was literally laying his life on the altar of freedom for the despised and oppressed whom he had never seen, whose kins-folk even he was not acquainted with.  At this juncture even Peter was not prepared to accept this proposal.  He wanted to secure the freedom of his wife and children as earnestly as he had ever desired to see his mother, yet he could not, at first, hearken to the idea of having them rescued in the way suggested by Concklin, fearing a failure.

To J.M.  McKim and the writer, the bold scheme for the deliverance of Peter’s family was alone confided.  It was never submitted to the Vigilance Committee, for the reason, that it was not considered a matter belonging thereto.  On first reflection, the very idea of such an undertaking seemed perfectly appalling.  Frankly was he told of the great dangers and difficulties to be encountered through hundreds of miles of slave territory.  Seth was told of those who, in attempting to aid slaves to escape had fallen victims to the relentless Slave Power, and had either lost their lives, or been incarcerated for long years in penitentiaries, where no friendly aid could be afforded them; in short, he was plainly told, that without a very great chance, the undertaking would cost him his life.  The occasion of this interview and conversation, the seriousness of Concklin and the utter failure in presenting the various obstacles to his plan, to create the slightest apparent misgiving in his mind, or to produce the slightest sense of fear or hesitancy, can never be effaced from the memory of the writer.  The plan was, however, allowed to rest for a time.

In the meanwhile, Peter’s mind was continually vacillating between Alabama, with his wife and children, and his new-found relatives in the North.  Said a brother, “If you cannot get your family, what will you do?  Will you come North and live with your relatives?” “I would as soon go out of the world, as not to go back and do all I can for them,” was the prompt reply of Peter.

The problem of buying them was seriously considered, but here obstacles quite formidable lay in the way.  Alabama laws utterly denied the right of a slave to buy himself, much less his wife and children.  The right of slave masters to free their slaves, either by sale or emancipation, was positively prohibited by law.  With these reflections weighing upon his mind, having stayed away from his wife as long as he could content himself to do, he took his carpet-bag in his hand, and turned his face toward Alabama, to embrace his family in the prison-house of bondage.

His approach home could only be made stealthily, not daring to breathe to a living soul, save his own family, his nominal Jew master, and one other friend—­a slave—­where he had been, the prize he had found, or anything in relation to his travels.  To his wife and children his return was unspeakably joyous.  The situation of his family concerned him with tenfold more weight than ever before,