And all this made me consider how fortunate I had been during the years when I was owned by the Boss—when every year men like Mr. Master were taking maybe thousands of Negroes to the plantations, where conditions would be similar, or worse. And it filled me with sadness to think that this was the lonely life, without their children, that my parents must have known.

In the spring, we were put back to work in the fields again, digging and plowing. And I was at work about noon one day, all caked in mud, when I saw a light covered cart rolling up the lane, and a man and a woman get out and go into the house. Some time later the planter came out and shouted to me to come over, so I hurried to him. And as I stood in front of him, taking care to look down at the ground, I heard a rustle of a dress on the veranda; but I daren’t look up to see who it was, and then I heard a voice I knew saying: “Why, Quash, don’t you know me?” And I realized it was Miss Clara.

“You’ve changed, Quash,” Miss Clara said to me, as she and Mr. Master brought me back to New York. “Did he mistreat you?”

I was still too ashamed of being whipped to tell her, so I said: “I’m all right, Miss Clara.”

“It took us a while to find out where you were,” she told me. “My mother refused to tell who she sold you to. I had people asking all over town. We only found out the other day.”

I asked if they knew anything of Hudson.

“He was sold to a sea captain, but we don’t know who. He could be anywhere. I’m sorry, Quash,” she said. “You may have lost him.”

I couldn’t speak for a moment.

“It was good of you to come for me,” I said.

“I had to pay quite a price for you,” said young Henry Master with a laugh. “The old planter knew we wanted you, so he did me no favors.”

“We know you were supposed to have your freedom,” said Miss Clara.

“Hmm,” said her husband. “I don’t know about that. Not after what I just had to pay. But we still have to decide what to do with you, Quash.”

It seemed that the difficulty was the Mistress. Recently she had gone upriver all the way to Schenectady, intending to live there. She chose that place on account of the fact that it had a strong Dutch church and a town with hardly any English in it. “So long as she stays up there, we can keep you with us, or at my brother’s,” explained Miss Clara. “But my brother doesn’t want her coming back and finding you back. It might make her angry, and she still controls everything at present. I’m sorry you can’t be free,” she added.