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"
Yes
,
master
,
"
I
responded
.
Pointing
towards
Northup
,
standing
a
few
rods
distant
,
he
demanded
--
"
Do
you
know
that
man
?
"
I
looked
in
the
direction
indicated
,
and
as
my
eyes
rested
on
his
countenance
,
a
world
of
images
thronged
my
brain
;
a
multitude
of
well-known
faces
--
Anne
's
,
and
the
dear
children
's
,
and
my
old
dead
father
's
;
all
the
scenes
and
associations
of
childhood
and
youth
;
all
the
friends
of
other
and
happier
days
,
appeared
and
disappeared
,
flitting
and
floating
like
dissolving
shadows
before
the
vision
of
my
imagination
,
until
at
last
the
perfect
memory
of
the
man
recurred
to
me
,
and
throwing
up
my
hands
towards
Heaven
,
I
exclaimed
,
in
a
voice
louder
than
I
could
utter
in
a
less
exciting
moment
--
"
Henry
B.
Northup
!
Thank
God
--
thank
God
!
"
In
an
instant
I
comprehended
the
nature
of
his
business
,
and
felt
that
the
hour
of
my
deliverance
was
at
hand
.
I
started
towards
him
,
but
the
sheriff
stepped
before
me
.
"
Stop
a
moment
,
"
said
he
;
"
have
you
any
other
name
than
Platt
?
"
"
Solomon
Northup
is
my
name
,
master
,
"
I
replied
.
"
Have
you
a
family
?
"
he
inquired
.
"
I
had
a
wife
and
three
children
.
"
"
What
were
your
children
's
names
?
"
