"“The three of them darted into the dark and narrow road, which smelled strongly of rotting oyster shells. About halfway down, they halted in their steps and looked around. A baby began crying again.

“The sound is coming from over here,” Heather said as she moved behind a pile of refuse. She gasped. “Oh my word.”

Charlotte and George rushed to her side, and spied a young, pretty Negro woman passed out and lying in the alley. A baby crawled through the nearby filth. Charlotte picked up the dirty child with ease and rocked it back and forth in her arms. Its whimpers became more hushed as she continued to soothe the child.

“What in heaven’s name happened to this poor woman?” Heather exclaimed while she investigated the young lady. Charlotte walked around the woman while the baby rode on her hip. “Do you think she’s a runaway slave?” Heather whispered.

Charlotte nodded in agreement. “You remember what they told us to watch for at our last anti-slavery meeting. Look at her feet and how they are so cut up. She must have walked quite some distance, and with a baby on her hip, too!”