The White Slave, or Memoirs of a Fugitive/Chapter 11
It was past noon before we arrived at Spring-Meadow, where colonel Moore had been, for some time, impatiently expecting us. But as he happened to have a large party to dine with him, he was too busy in entertaining his company, to pay any immediate attention to us. Yet, no sooner had he received notice of our arrival, than he sent out Mr Gordon's five hundred dollars. It was a large roll of bank notes; the fellow's eye kindled up at the sight of it, and he snatched it eagerly. I was looking steadily at him, and his eyes met mine. The change was sudden. He blushed and grew pale by turns; — shame, remorse and self-contempt were painted in his face. He thrust the money hastily into his pocket, and walked away without speaking a word,
Cassy and myself were driven to the stables, and locked up in a close, narrow, dark room, which served sometimes as a corn-crib, aid sometimes as a sort of dungeon for refractory slaves. We sat down upon the floor — for there was nothing else to sit upon — and poor Cassy sunk into my arms. Her grief and terror seemed to burst out afresh, and she wept bitterly. I kissed away her tears, and tried to console her. But she would not be comforted; and little indeed, was the comfort I had to offer. The more I said to her, the more she wept; and she clung to me closer and closer, till her embrace became almost convulsive. "He will kill us — He will separate us forever," she murmured, in a low, inarticulate voice; and it was the only reply she made to all I could say to her.
Our situation was indeed pitiable. Had we fallen into the hands of an ordinary pirate or robber, there might have been some room for hope. The consciousness of his own. violence, might perhaps alarm him; the fear of avenging justice might stay his hand. At the worst, death, and that too a speedy and an easy one, would be the farthest limit of his malice. But we — unhappy creatures — could flatter ourselves with no such prospect. We were runaway slaves, who had fallen again into the hands of their master; — a master, whom the very recollection that he owned us, inspired with rage at our insolence, in daring to run away from hm; and who knew well, that both the law and public opinion would amply justify him in the infliction of any tortures not likely to result in immediate death. It is true that we had fled from the greatest outrage that can be inflicted upon a wife and a husband. But that was no excuse, — not even the slightest palliation. Slaves are not permitted to fly at all. It is their duty — alas! that such a word should be so prostituted! — to submit without a murmur, to all the insults, outrages and oppression of their masters.
I clasped my wife to my bosom, with almost the same trembling earnestness, with which she clung to me. 1 felt, as she did, that it was the last time; — and this idea sunk into my heart with a bitterness, which all my late ecstasies served only to aggravate. I almost stifled her. with eager kisses; — but the fever that glowed in her cheek was not the flush of pleasure; and those deep sighs she heaved, — they could not be mistaken for the pantings of delight, The speedy separation that threatened us, was not only terrible in anticipation, but it seemed to destroy all our capacity for present enjoyment. But for that, with Cassy in my arms, what should I have cared for chains and a dungeon! — Dreading that, her lips lost all their sweetness, her bosom was an uneasy pillow, and though I could not leave her, every embrace seemed to increase both her distress and mine.
We passed several hours in this way, without any interruption. We had not tasted food that day, — and nobody brought us even a cup of cold water. The heat and closeness of the room, into which the air had no admission, aggravated the fever in our blood, and made our thirst almost intolerable. How I longed for the cool spring, the balmy air, the freedom, we had lost!
Toward evening, we heard somebody approaching; and I soon recognized the voices of colonel Moore and his overseer. They opened the door, and bade us come out. At first, the light dazzled my eyes so that I could scarcely distinguish one object from another; but in a little while I was enabled to see that our visitors were accompanied by Peter, a tall fellow, with a very suspicious smile, the spy and tell-tale of the place, the detestation of all the servants, but the especial favorite of Mr Stubbs, and his regular assistant on all occasions. 
The overseer mumbled out some unintelligible apology, of which colonel Moore took no notice; and without further preface or explanation, he ordered Mr Stubbs to tie me up.
The padlock by which the chain was fastened about my neck was undone. They stripped me almost naked. Mr Stubbs produced a piece of rope with one end of which he bound my hands, and the other end, he made fast, with Peter's assistance, to a beam over my head; — not however, till he had drawn it so tight as almost to lift me from the floor.
Colonel Moore then ordered them to free Cassy from the chain. He put a heavy whip into her hand, and pointing to me, "Take care my girl," he said, "that you lay it on to some purpose."
Poor Cassy looked about in utter amazement. She did not understand him; she had no idea of such refined cruelty, such ferocious revenge.
He repeated his commands, with a tone and a look that were frightful. "If you wish to save your own carcass, see that you bring blood at every blow. I'll teach you — both of you — to trifle with me."
She now comprehended his brutal purpose; — and giving one look of mingled horror and despair, sunk senseless to the ground. Peter was sent for water. He dashed it in her face, and she soon revived. They placed her on her feet, and colonel Moore again put the whip into her hand and repeated his orders. She threw it down, as if the touch had stung her; and looking him full in the face, the tears, all the while, streaming from her eyes, she said in a tone firm, but full of entreaty, "Master, he is my husband!"
That word husband, seemed to kindle colonel Moore into a new fury, which totally destroyed his self-command. He struck Cassy to the ground with his fists, trampled on her with his feet, and snatching.up the whip which she had thrown down, he laid it upon me with such violence, that the lash penetrated my flesh at every blow, and the blood ran trickling down my legs and stood in little puddles at my feet. The torture was too great for human endurance; I screamed with agony. "Pshaw," said my executioner, "his noise will disturb the House;" — and drawing a handkerchief from his pocket, he thrust it into my mouth, and rammed it down my throat with the butt-end of his whiphandle. Having thus effectually gagged me, he renewed his lashes. How long they were continued I do not know; a cloud began to swim before my eyes; my head grew dizzy and confused; and a fortunate fainting-fit soon put me beyond the reach of torture.