She had often been, with her mistress, to visit some connections, in the
little village of T----, not far from the Ohio river, and knew the road
well. To go thither, to escape across the Ohio river, were the first
hurried outlines of her plan of escape; beyond that, she could only hope
in God.

When horses and vehicles began to move along the highway, with that
alert perception peculiar to a state of excitement, and which seems to
be a sort of inspiration, she became aware that her headlong pace and
distracted air might bring on her remark and suspicion. She therefore
put the boy on the ground, and, adjusting her dress and bonnet,
she walked on at as rapid a pace as she thought consistent with the
preservation of appearances. In her little bundle she had provided a
store of cakes and apples, which she used as expedients for quickening
the speed of the child, rolling the apple some yards before them, when
the boy would run with all his might after it; and this ruse, often
repeated, carried them over many a half-mile.

After a while, they came to a thick patch of woodland, through which
murmured a clear brook. As the child complained of hunger and thirst,
she climbed over the fence with him; and, sitting down behind a large
rock which concealed them from the road, she gave him a breakfast out of
her little package. The boy wondered and grieved that she could not eat;
and when, putting his arms round her neck, he tried to wedge some of
his cake into her mouth, it seemed to her that the rising in her throat
would choke her.

"No, no, Harry darling! mother can't eat till you are safe! We must go
on--on--till we come to the river!" And she hurried again into the road,
and again constrained herself to walk regularly and composedly forward.