I could not gain admittance, as my mother was away to work and the door was locked.  A white woman, living next door, and who was always friendly to mother, told me that she would not return until night.  I clasped my hands in despair and cried, “Oh! the white people have sold me, and I had to run away to keep from being sent down the river.”

This white lady, whose name I am sorry I cannot remember, sympathized with me, as she knew my mother’s story and had written many letters for her, so she offered me the key of her house, which, fortunately, fitted my mother’s door, and I was soon inside, cowering with fear in the darkness, magnifying every noise and every passing wind, until my imagination had almost converted the little cottage into a boat, and I was steaming down South, away from my mother, as fast as I could go.

Late at night mother returned, and was told all that had happened, and after getting supper, she took me to a friend’s house for concealment, until the next day.

As soon as Mr. Mitchell had discovered my unlooked-for departure, he was furious, for he did not think I had sense enough to run away; he accused the coachman of helping me off, and, despite the poor man’s denials, hurried him away to the calaboose and put him under the lash, in order to force a confession.  Finding this course unavailing, he offered a reward to the negro catchers, on the same evening, but their efforts were equally fruitless.

CHAPTER IV.

On the morning of the 8th of September, 1842, my mother sued Mr. D. D. Mitchell for the possession of her child, Lucy Ann Berry.  My mother, accompanied by the sheriff, took me from my hiding-place and conveyed me to the jail, which was located on Sixth Street, between Chestnut and Market, where the Laclede Hotel now stands, and there met Mr. Mitchell, with Mr. H. S. Cox, his brother-in-law.

Judge Bryant Mullanphy read the law to Mr. Mitchell, which stated that if Mr. Mitchell took me back to his house, he must give bond and security to the amount of two thousand dollars, and furthermore, I should not be taken out of the State of Missouri until I had a chance to prove my freedom.  Mr. H. S. Cox became his security and Mr. Mitchell gave bond accordingly, and then demanded that I should be put in jail.

“Why do you want to put that poor young girl in jail?” demanded my lawyer.  “Because,” he retorted, “her mother or some of her crew might run her off, just to make me pay the two thousand dollars; and I would like to see her lawyer, or any other man, in jail, that would take up a d——­ nigger case like that.”

“You need not think, Mr. Mitchell,” calmly replied Mr. Murdock, “because my client is colored that she has no rights, and can be cheated out of her freedom.  She is just as free as you are, and the Court will so decide it, as you will see.”

However, I was put in a cell, under lock and key, and there remained for seventeen long and dreary months, listening to the