Rhoda’s heart was high with expectation of success when she and Mary Ellen started upon the journey to Cleveland. The runaway, in her new gown and a bonnet and veil, played her part perfectly, and Rhoda told her father that he might expect her back in a few days with the news that all had gone well. “And I,” she added to herself, “shall then be able to feel that I have paid off Jeff’s debt of wrongdoing to this poor girl.” As they were going on board the steamboat Jim came hurrying down to the landing from the post-office with the morning mail, which contained a letter for Rhoda. She saw that it was from Charlotte, and put it unopened into her pocket to read later. For, notwithstanding her inward assurance that her adventure could not fail, she felt anxious about the short time they would have to remain on the river boat. Slave traders and their agents and slave catchers were constantly journeying up and down the river, and if one of these who had appraised Mary Ellen in her days of bondage should happen to see her he might recognize her as Lear White. She kept her charge engaged in conversation, the better to carry out the pretense that they were two ladies traveling together, and warned her not to raise her veil. The transfer to the canal boat safely made, Rhoda felt much less anxious and relaxed a little of her care. They sat upon the deck, and Mary Ellen lifted her veil now and then, the better to see the succession of charming views through which they passed. The wooded hills were ablaze with autumn foliage and these alternated with open lands where fields of brown stubble, acres of ripened corn, pasturing cattle and busy farm yards told of autumn’s rewards for the year’s labor. Mary Ellen was much interested in all this and had many questions to ask as to how the work was done and whether or not it would be the same in Canada. Several hours passed in this way before Rhoda bethought her again of the letter from Charlotte. Smiling at thought of the enthusiastic account it would contain of the round of pleasures since her last missive, she took it from her pocket and drew a little apart, while Mary Ellen became engrossed in looking at a town which they were approaching. A number of people were at the landing and she gazed at them, the tree-shaded streets, the buildings and the church spires with the self-forgetfulness of a child amid new surroundings. Instead of the long letter she expected Rhoda found in the envelope a single sheet and dashed across the middle of it the one sentence, “I told you I’d soon be engaged, and I am! Charlotte.”