As I stood there， feelings of unutterable agonyoverwhelmed me. I was conscious that I had subjectedmyself to unimaginable punishment. The reaction thatfollowed my extreme ebullition of anger produced the
most painful sensations of regret. An unfriended， helplessslave—what could I do， what could I say， to justify， inthe remotest manner， the heinous act I had committed，of resenting a white man’s contumely and abuse. Itried to pray—I tried to beseech my Heavenly Father tosustain me in my sore extremity， but emotion chokedmy utterance， and I could only bow my head upon myhands and weep. For at least an hour I remained in thissituation， finding relief only in tears， when， looking up， Ibeheld Tibeats， accompanied by two horsemen， comingdown the bayou. They rode into the yard， jumped fromtheir horses， and approached me with large whips， one ofthem also carrying a coil of rope.
“Cross your hands，” commanded Tibeats， with theaddition of such a shuddering expression of blasphemy asis not decorous to repeat.
“You need not bind me， Master Tibeats， I am ready togo with you anywhere，” said I.
One of his companions then stepped forward， swearingif I made the least resistance he would break my head—he would tear me limb from limb—he would cut myblack throat—and giving wide scope to other similarexpressions. Perceiving any importunity altogether vain，I crossed my hands， submitting humbly to whateverdisposition they might please to make of me. ThereuponTibeats tied my wrists， drawing the rope around themwith his utmost strength. Then he bound my ankles in thesame manner. In the meantime the other two had slipped097
a cord within my elbows， running it across my back， andtying it firmly. It was utterly impossible to move handor foot. With a remaining piece of rope Tibeats made anawkward noose， and placed it about my neck.
“Now， then，” inquired one of Tibeats’ companions，“where shall we hang the nigger？”
CHAPIN RESCUES SOLOMON FROM HANGING.
One proposed such a limb， extending from the bodyof a peach tree， near the spot where we were standing.
His comrade objected to it， alleging it would break， andproposed another. Finally they fixed upon the latter.
During this conversation， and all the time they werebinding me， I uttered not a word. Overseer Chapin，during the progress of the scene， was walking hastily backand forth on the piazza. Rachel was crying by the kitchendoor， and Mrs. Chapin was still looking from the window.
Hope died within my heart. Surely my time had come.
I should never behold the light of another day—neverbehold the faces of my children—the sweet anticipationI had cherished with such fondness. I should that hourstruggle through the fearful agonies of death！ None wouldmourn for me—none revenge me. Soon my form would bemouldering in that distant soil， or， perhaps， be cast to theslimy reptiles that filled the stagnant waters of the bayou！
Tears flowed down my cheeks， but they only afforded asubject of insulting comment for my executioners.
At length， as they were dragging me towards the tree，Chapin， who had momentarily disappeared from thepiazza， came out of the house and walked towards us. Hehad a pistol in each hand， and as near as I can now recallto mind， spoke in a firm， determined manner， as follows：
“Gentlemen， I have a few words to say. You had betterlisten to them. Whoever moves that slave another footfrom where he stands is a dead man. In the first place， hedoes not deserve this treatment. It is a shame to murder099
him in this manner. I never knew a more faithful boythan Platt. You， Tibeats， are in the fault yourself. You arepretty much of a scoundrel， and I know it， and you richlydeserve the flogging you have received. In the next place，I have been overseer on this plantation seven years， and，in the absence of William Ford， am master here. My dutyis to protect his interests， and that duty I shall perform.
You are not responsible—you are a worthless fellow. Fordholds a mortgage on Platt of four hundred dollars. If youhang him he loses his debt. Until that is canceled youhave no right to take his life. You have no right to takeit any way. There is a law for the slave as well as for thewhite man. You are no better than a murderer.
“As for you，” addressing Cook and Ramsay， a coupleof overseers from neighboring plantations， “as for you—begone！ If you have any regard for your own safety， I say，begone.”
Cook and Ramsay， without a further word， mountedtheir horses and rode away. Tibeats， in a few minutes，evidently in fear， and overawed by the decided toneof Chapin， sneaked off like a coward， as he was， andmounting his horse， followed his companions.
I remained standing where I was， still bound， with therope around my neck. As soon as they were gone， Chapincalled Rachel， ordering her to run to the field， and tellLawson to hurry to the house without delay， and bringthe brown mule with him， an animal much prized for itsunusual fleetness. Presently the boy appeared.
“Lawson，” said Chapin， “you must go to the PineWoods. Tell your master Ford to come here at once —thathe must not delay a single moment. Tell him they aretrying to murder Platt. Now hurry， boy. Be at the PineWoods by noon if you kill the mule.”
Chapin stepped into the house and wrote a pass. Whenhe returned， Lawson was at the door， mounted on hismule. Receiving the pass， he plied the whip right smartlyto the beast， dashed out of the yard， and turning up thebayou on a hard gallop， in less time than it has taken meto describe the scene， was out of sight.
