“Thou art a very respectable looking man,” said Friend Hopper; “but I have known slaveholders, of even more genteel appearance than thou art, tell gross falsehoods where a slave was in question.  I tell thee plainly, that I have no confidence in slaveholders, in any such case.  I have had too much acquaintance with them.  I know their game too well.”

The Southerner said something about its being both mean and wrong to come between master and servant.

“Such may be thy opinion,” replied Friend Hopper; “but my views of duty differ from thine in this matter.”  Then turning to the woman, he said, “By the laws here, thou art free.  No man has a right to make thee a slave again.  Thou mayest stay at the North, or go back to New-Orleans, just as thou choosest.”

The Southerner here interposed to say, “Mind what that old gentleman says.  You can go back to New-Orleans, to your husband, if you prefer to go.”

“But let me tell thee,” said Friend Hopper to the woman, “that if thou stayest here, thou wilt be free; but if they carry thee back, they may sell thee away from thy husband.  Dost thou wish to be free?”

The tears gushed from her eyes in full flood, and she replied earnestly, “I do want to be free.  To be sure I do want to be free; but then I want to go to my husband.”

Mr. Morgan and his Southern friend grew excited.  With an angry glance at the old gentleman, the latter exclaimed, “I only wish we had you in New-Orleans!  We’d hang you up in twenty-four hours.”

“Then you are a set of savages,” replied Friend Hopper.

“You are a set of thieves,” retorted he.

“Well, savages may be thieves also,” rejoined the abolitionist, with a significant smile.

“You are no gentleman,” responded the other, in an irritated tone.

“I don’t profess to be a gentleman,” answered the impassive Quaker.  “But I am an honest old man; and perhaps that will do as well.”

This remark occasioned a general smile.  Indeed it was pleasant to observe, throughout this scene in the court-room, that popular sympathy was altogether on the side of freedom.  It was a strange blind instinct on the part of the people, considering how diligently they had been instructed otherwise by pulpit and press; but so it was.

When the slave was summoned into the judge’s room, Friend Hopper followed; being extremely desirous to have her understand her position clearly.  He found Mr. Morgan and his Southern friend in close and earnest conversation with her.  When he attempted to approach her, he was unceremoniously shoved aside, with the remark, “Don’t push me away!”

“I did not push thee,” said Friend Hopper; “and see that thou dost not push me!” He then inquired of the woman if he had rightly understood that her husband was free.  She replied in the affirmative.  “Then let me tell thee,” said the kind-hearted old gentleman, “that we will send for him, and obtain employment for him here, if it is thy choice to remain.”