“Perhaps I am rather hasty， Mr. Bass； I beg yourpardon； but I have come from the State of New-Yorkto accomplish the purpose the writer of a letter datedthe 15th of August， post-marked at Marksville， had inview. Circumstances have led me to think that you areperhaps the man who wrote it. I am in search of SolomonNorthup. If you know him， I beg you to inform mefrankly where he is， and I assure you the source of anyinformation you may give me shall not be divulged， if youdesire it not to be.”
A long time Bass looked his new acquaintance steadilyin the eyes， without opening his lips. He seemed to bedoubting in his own mind if there was not an attemptto practice some deception upon him. Finally he said，deliberately— “I have done nothing to be ashamed of.
I am the man who wrote the letter. If you have come torescue Solomon Northup， I am glad to see you.”
“When did you last see him， and where is he？” Northupinquired.
“I last saw him Christmas， a week ago to-day. He isthe slave of Edwin Epps， a planter on Bayou Boeuf， nearHolmesville. He is not known as Solomon Northup； he iscalled Platt.”
The secret was out—the mystery was unraveled.
Through the thick， black cloud， amid whose dark anddismal shadows I had walked twelve years， broke thestar that was to light me back to liberty. All mistrust andhesitation were soon thrown aside， and the two menconversed long and freely upon the subject uppermostin their thoughts. Bass expressed the interest he hadtaken in my behalf—his intention of going north in theSpring， and declaring that he had resolved to accomplishmy emancipation， if it were in his power. He describedthe commencement and progress of his acquaintancewith me， and listened with eager curiosity to the accountgiven him of my family， and the history of my early life.
Before separating， he drew a map of the bayou on a stripof paper with a piece of red chalk， showing the locality ofEpps’ plantation， and the road leading most directly to it.
Northup and his young companion returned to Marksville， where it was determined to commence legalproceedings to test the question of my right to freedom. Iwas made plaintiff， Mr. Northup acting as my guardian，and Edwin Epps defendant. The process to be issuedwas in the nature of replevin， directed to the sheriff ofthe parish， commanding him to take me into custody，and detain me until the decision of the court. By the timethe papers were duly drawn up， it was twelve o’clock atnight—too late to obtain the necessary signature of theJudge， who resided some distance out of town. Furtherbusiness was therefore suspended until Monday morning.
Everything， apparently， was moving along swimmingly，until Sunday afternoon， when Waddill called at Northup’sroom to express his apprehension of difficulties they hadnot expected to encounter. Bass had become alarmed，and had placed his affairs in the hands of a person at thelanding， communicating to him his intention of leavingthe State. This person had betrayed the confidencereposed in him to a certain extent， and a rumor began tofloat about the town， that the stranger at the hotel， whohad been observed in the company of lawyer Waddill，was after one of old Epps， slaves， over on the bayou. Eppswas known at Marksville， having frequent occasion to visitthat place during the session of the courts， and the fearentertained by Mr. Northup’s adviser was， that intelligencewould be conveyed to him in the night， giving him anopportunity of secreting me before the arrival of the sheriff.
This apprehension had the effect of expediting mattersconsiderably. The sheriff， who lived in one directionfrom the village， was requested to hold himself inreadiness immediately after midnight， while the Judgewas informed he would be called upon at the same time.
It is but justice to say， that the authorities at Marksvillecheerfully rendered all the assistance in their power.
As soon after midnight as bail could be perfected， andthe Judge’s signature obtained， a carriage， containingMr. Northup and the sheriff， driven by the landlord’s son，rolled rapidly out of the village of Marksville， on the roadtowards Bayou Boeuf.
It was supposed that Epps would contest the issueinvolving my right to liberty， and it therefore suggesteditself to Mr. Northup， that the testimony of the sheriff，describing my first meeting with the former， mightperhaps become material on the trial. It was accordinglyarranged during the ride， that， before I had an opportunityof speaking to Mr. Northup， the sheriff should propoundto me certain questions agreed upon， such as the numberand names of my children， the name of my wife beforemarriage， of places I knew at the North， and so forth. Ifmy answers corresponded with the statements given him，the evidence must necessarily be considered conclusive.
At length， shortly after Epps had left the field， withthe consoling assurance that he would soon returnand warm us， as was stated in the conclusion of thepreceding chapter， they came in sight of the plantation，and discovered us at work. Alighting from the carriage，and directing the driver to proceed to the great house，with instructions not to mention to any one the objectof their errand until they met again， Northup and thesheriff turned from the highway， and came towards usacross the cotton field. We observed them， on looking upat the carriage—one several rods in advance of the other.
It was a singular and unusual thing to see white menapproaching us in that manner， and especially at thatearly hour in the morning， and Uncle Abram and Patseymade some remarks， expressive of their astonishment.
Walking up to Bob， the sheriff inquired：
“Where’s the boy they call Platt？”
“Thar he is， massa，” answered Bob， pointing to me，and twitching off his hat.
