Cautiously and softly the black woman led the way, followed by the "Angel
of Mercy," till, after passing down through the cellar with the water covering
the floor, they emerged into the back yard. Two horses had been provided.
Clotelle mounted one, and a black man the other; the latter leading
the way. Both dashed off at a rapid pace, through a drenching storm,
with such a pall-like darkness that they could not see each other.
After an hour's ride the negro halted, and informed Clotelle that he must
leave her, and return with the horses, but that she was with friends.
He then gave a whistle, and for a moment held his breath.
Just as the faithful black was about to repeat the signal, he heard
the response; and in a moment the lady alighted, and with dripping garments,
limbs chilled to numbness, followed her new guide to a place of concealment,
near the village of Taitsville.
"You is jes as wet as a drownded rat," said the mulatto woman,
who met Clotelle as she entered the negro's cabin.
"Yes," replied the latter, "this is a stormy night for one to be out."
"Yes mam, dese is hard times for eberybody dat 'bleves in de Union.
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