In about two months after, two slave dealers from Norfolk, Va., called at the house on their way to Baltimore, the travelling being very bad, and finding it necessary to stop and feed their horses, and refresh themselves. After calling for dinner, and making some enquiry about the slave market in Baltimore, they engaged in conversation, and whiled away the time by exciting and gratifying their feelings by the wit of their hostess. Three times they called for their horses, which were at length brought, but another glass of wine was passed around, and they were enticed to stay a little longer. Thus she kept them until night, when they started expecting to reach Laurel, which was about fifteen miles distant, via Perkin’s ferry. But no sooner had they departed from the house than she dressed herself in men’s attire, and took with her three of her gang. One was named Griffin, of whom we will speak immediately; another, whose name was Hunt, was one of Griffin’s early associates; but the name of the other we are not certain of, as he has yet escaped; it is thought he made his way to Texas. However, they mounted some of their fleetest horse, and started in pursuit, determined on killing and robbing them. Taking another road crossing the river above Perkin’s ferry, and placing obstructions in the road as it passed up a sandy hill, they there laid in wait for them; stationing themselves to fire upon them as they ascended the hill, she and her gang rushed out and fired, wounding both of them--one of them so badly that he died in a few hours--and so frightening the travellers’ horses that they ran away from both robbers and drivers, though the wounded travellers managed to drive safely through to Laurel that night, where the one who was most hurt died almost immediately on his arrival at the inn. [Illustration: Ann stands behind a guest, seated at a table, with a knife in her raised hand.] The above named Griffin was executed for murder, at Cambridge, Maryland, on the 14th of June last, and when brought upon the scaffold, he declared, as he stood in the last moments of his earthly existence, and on the brink of eternity, expecting in a few moments to meet his God in judgment, that he was innocent of the crime, for which he was about to die, but still acknowledged that he was guilty of other murders of the most awful and blackest shade. He begged a little time as he said he could not think of appearing before his eternal Judge, without confessing to the world, the awful crimes of which he was guilty. He then proceeded as follows: