"Yes, honey. It's bes' fer it ter rain. De Yanks can't see yer den. Missus she laikes fer it ter rain when she go." "Does she ever go?" asked Jeanne sitting up very straight. "I thought that she was afraid to go." "De Madame ain't 'fraid ob nuffin," was the emphatic reply. "She usen ter go often. She done carried heaps ob things ter de rebs." "But it has been because of her brother, Feliciane," said Jeanne, gently trying not to condemn her aunt too severely. "Huh brudder? What brudder? She ain't got no brudder. What you talkin' 'bout?" "Oh, Feliciane, aren't we carrying food and medicine to her poor wounded brother, Auguste?" "What makes you think dat, chile? Massa Auguste killed long time ago when de wah fust beginned. 'Couhse we ain't takin' things ter huh brudder. We's carryin' news ter de Massa Gin'ral dat de Yanks gwine ter 'tack him." "Then," said Jeanne bitterly. "I have been fooled. I will give no aid to the enemy. Turn this boat back, Feliciane." "Not ef I knows myself, honey. I done want no whoppin'. Madame Vance sent me, an' I'se gwine ter do what she say. What'd yer kum fer ef yer didn't want ter holpe dem?" "Because I did not know what I was doing. Madame told me it was to take food to her wounded brother." "She's a great one fer pullin' de wool ober de eyes," chuckled the negress. "Missus kum nigh gittin' ketched de las' time she kummed, so den she sent you." "Oh!" Jeanne sat very still, her heart heavy with what she had heard. Truthful herself, the knowledge that her aunt could stoop to such duplicity filled her with anguish. Her eyes were fast opening to the fact that the sweetness of the lady and her honeyed words masked a cruel, treacherous nature, and unaccustomed as she was to deceit of any sort she was weighed down by the discovery. "Feliciane," she said coaxingly. "I will give you more money than you ever had in all your life before if you will turn this boat back." "No, missy. Yer can't hiah me ter do nuffin ob dat kine," came the relentless tones of the darky. "Feliciane knows what's good fer huh, an' she's gwine ter do it." "Well, my basket shall not go at any rate," cried Jeanne and she caught it up to throw it overboard. But the darky seized her arm in a strong grip and took the basket from her. "Be quiet, missy," she said, "er I'll hab ter settle yer. An' missus won't keer nuther. She done laik yer nohow." Jeanne could do nothing in the woman's powerful clasp, and was compelled to relinquish her hold on the basket. Placing it behind her the negress took the oars again and resumed her rowing. Silence fell between the two and steadily they drew nearer to the farther shore. At last after what seemed hours to Jeanne the keel of the boat grated upon the sand and the woman sprang out and drew the skiff upon the bank. "Come," she said to Jeanne and the girl mechanically followed her. "Halt! who goes there?" came the challenge. "A frien'," responded Feliciane. "Done yer know me, sah?"