Once under way, I ventured to breathe freely, and hope again revived.  Perchance I might yet escape.  But even as the thought passed my mind, a man entered the cars and seated himself directly, before me.  I thought he regarded me with too much interest, and thinking to shun him, I quietly left my seat and retired to the other end of the car.  He soon followed, and again my fears revived.  He at first tried to converse with me, but finding I would not reply, he began to question me in the most direct and impertinent manner.  Again I changed my seat, and again he followed.  I then sought the conductor, and revealed to him enough of my history to enlist his sympathy and ensure his protection.  To his honor be it spoken, I did not appeal to him in vain.  He severely reproved the man for his impertinence; and for the rest of the journey I was shielded from insult or injury.

Nothing further of interest transpired until I reached Worcester, when the first face that met my eye as I was about to leave the cars was that of a Romish priest.  I could not be mistaken, for I had often seen him at Montreal.  He might not have been looking for me, but he watched every passenger as they left the cars in a way that convinced me he had some special reason for doing it.  As I, too, had special reasons for avoiding him just at that time, I stepped back out of sight until the passengers were all out of the cars and the priest had turned away.  I then sprang out upon the opposite side, and, turning my back upon the depot, hastened away amid the wilderness of houses, not knowing whither I went.  For a long time I wandered around, until at length, being faint and weary, I began to look for some place where I could obtain refreshment.  But when I found a restaurant I did not dare to enter.  A number of Irishmen were standing around who were in all probability Catholics.  I would not venture among them; but as I turned aside I remembered that Mr. Williams had directed me to seek employment a little out of the city.  I then inquired the way to Main street, and having found it, I turned to the north and walked on till I found myself out of the thickly settled part of the city.  Then I began to seek for employment, and after several fruitless applications I chanced to call upon a man whose name was Handy.  He received me in the kindest manner, and when I asked for work, he said his wife did not need to hire me, but I was welcome to stop with them and work for my board until I found employment elsewhere.  This offer I joyfully accepted; and, as I became acquainted in the place, many kind hands were extended to aid me in my efforts to obtain an honest living.  In this neighborhood I still reside, truly thankful for past deliverance, grateful for present mercies, and confidently trusting God for the future.

CHAPTER XXVI.

Conclusion.

Here closes the history of Sarah J. Richardson, as related by herself.  The remaining particulars have been obtained from her employers in Worcester.