All fear of any treachery on the part of the negro had completely deserted me, and I slipped down from my perch on the edge of the cockpit to a place on the bench at her side. She made no motion to draw away, but her eyes were upon my face, as though seeking to read the meaning of my sudden action. "We can talk better here," I explained. "The engine makes so much noise." "Yes; and--and somehow I--I feel more like trusting you when I am able to see your face," she admitted frankly. "I am actually afraid to be alone." "I have felt that this was true from the first. Indeed, I seriously wonder at the trust you have reposed in me--a total stranger." "But--but how could I help it? Have I been unwomanly? I think I scarcely know what I have done. I could very easily have told what was right in the old days; but--but surely you understand--this was not to be decided by those rules. I was no longer free. Do you mean that you blame me for what has been done?" "Far from it. You have acted in the only way possible. To me you are a wonderfully brave woman. I doubt if one in a thousand could have faced the situation as well." "Oh I can hardly feel I have been that. It seems to me I have shown myself strangely weak--permitting you to do exactly as you pleased with me. Yet you do not understand; it has not been wholly my own peril which caused me to surrender so easily." "But I think I do understand--it was partly a sacrifice for others." "In a way, yes, it was; but I cannot explain more fully, even to you, now. Yet suppose I make this sacrifice, and it fails; suppose after all they should fall into the hands of these men?" "I will not believe that," I protested, stoutly. "I feel convinced they had warning--there is no other way in which to account for their disappearance, their failure to return to the house. They must have encountered Pete and gone away with him." "If I only knew that." "Perhaps we can assure ourselves; we can go ashore at his place up the river, and if his boat is gone, there will be no longer any doubt. In any case, it is clearly your duty to save yourself." "Do you really think so? It has seemed to me cowardly to run away." "But, Rene," I urged. "They were the ones who deserted first. If they had warning of danger, they fled without a word to you--leaving you alone in the hands of those men." "They--they, perhaps they failed to realize my peril. Oh you cannot see this as I do," she faltered, endeavoring to conjure up some excuse. "They may have thought they could serve me best in that way." I laughed, but not in any spirit of humor. "Hardly that, I imagine. Far more likely they fled suddenly in a panic of fear, without pausing to think at all. Why, you were the very one whose danger was the greatest; you were the one plunged into slavery." "Yes--yes; I had forgotten that. Never for a moment does it seem real to me. I have to keep saying over and over again to myself, 'I am a negro and a slave.'"