The glory of success, and the shame and confusion of failure, could not be matters of indifference to me.

Our food was prepared; our clothes were packed up; we were all ready to go, and impatient for Saturday morning--considering that the last morning of our bondage.
I cannot describe the tempest and tumult of my brain, that morning.
The reader will please to bear in mind, that, in a slave state, an unsuccessful runaway is not only subjected to cruel torture, and sold away to the far south, but he is frequently execrated by the other slaves.

He is charged with making the condition of the other slaves intolerable, by laying them all under the suspicion of their masters--subjecting them to greater vigilance, and imposing greater limitations on their privileges.

I dreaded murmurs from this quarter.
It is difficult, too, for a slavemaster to believe that slaves escaping have not been aided in their flight by some one of their fellow slaves.
When, therefore, a slave is missing, every slave on the place is closely examined as to his knowledge of the undertaking; and they are sometimes even tortured, to make them disclose what they are suspected of knowing of such escape.
Our anxiety grew more and more intense, as the time of our intended departure for the north drew nigh.

It was truly felt to be a matter of life and death with us; and we fully intended to _fight_ as well as _run_, if necessity should occur for that extremity.