Virginia's face was very close to him, and as he looked at her he detected a faint warmth in her cheeks; noted the fine mold, the delicate tracery of blue veins through her clear white skin--the temptation was very great. His heart thumped wildly and then--unmindful of the impropriety, or unwilling to resist the natural inclination of his arm to slip under her full, round, snowy neck--raised her head and touched her lips with his. The contact germinated a magnetic spark that raced through her veins and instantly awoke her to life. She sprang to her feet, the red blood of active youth flushing her face to crimson. For one moment she looked indignant, fully conscious of the liberty he had taken. Sam bent his head abashed, and said apologetically--said in tones and manner that left no mistake as to his honest love and deep respect for her--"You looked so beautiful that--really now--I could not help it--forgive me!" Her mobile face, that had set in a shock of alarm, indignation and scorn, softened and, as the events of the night flooded her memory, changed to a smile. For one moment it loitered in her eyes and on her lips, and then again changed to a grave, serious look that developed tears in her beautiful blue eyes. She held out her hand to him. Were his eyes deceiving him? Could he believe it? Yes, and he stood dazed with overpowering joy that she was not offended at the liberty. He took her hand and gently carried it to his lips. Then she turned to the aid of Constance, knelt beside her, felt her hands, her face, her neck, and asked him. "Who was so mean to strike her down?" For answer he sadly shook his head, and replied gravely, "She sank to the floor after John Thorpe refused her." Then bitter tears trickled down Virginia's face as she continued to chafe her hands; but finding her efforts to restore warmth were unavailing, the same gripping at her heartstrings again possessed her. She raised her eyes to him, a frantic pleading in her voice, "Help me, Sam; oh, help me bring back the life that has nearly fled!" "Help you!" he repeated proudly, as he stood in front of the girl who had for the first time asked of him a favor in her distress, the favor of a "good samaritan." And then, looking straight at her, he said, very seriously, as he knelt and took Constance's other hand, "The strength that God has given me is at your service, now and forever!" She understood, and he noted with pleasure that no swift questioning glance of anger, no look of weariness and turning away, as once before, followed his magnanimity. At that moment Smith, who stood on the platform just outside the cabin door, was heard to say in a loud voice: "Move on there! The channel be over beyant, in the middle ave the water! Kape yees head more sout be aste!" Then he was heard muttering indistinctly, with only such disjointed words as "blackguard," "whillip" and "divilish rat," clearly audible.