After we had consumed our meagre supper and settled down for the night, I lay awake for a long time, gloomily meditating on my position. The passage of this great river had raised another barrier between me and freedom, and every day I was being carried farther and farther into the unknown regions of the interior, from which escape would become more difficult with every mile that I travelled. Was it, after all, to be my destiny to spend the remainder of my life hoeing yams or cutting wood for some negro master far from the sights and sounds of the civilised world? I was aroused from these reflections by a soft poke in the back, and turning over, perceived that Aminé had shuffled towards me as far as the rope would allow her to, and had touched me with her outstretched fingers. “Yúsufu!” she whispered, as I turned, “come nearer. I want to talk to thee.” “Hast thou not talked enough to-day, thou babbler?” I exclaimed impatiently. “Go to sleep now, and give thy tongue a little rest.” “Nay, but I have something to tell thee,” she persisted. “Come near and listen.” I shuffled a couple of feet nearer to her. “Now say what thou hast to say quickly,” I said gruffly, “for the night is passing, and we have to march at daybreak.” “It is true, Yúsufu,” she said earnestly. “To-day we have crossed the great river. To-morrow or the next day we shall come to Sálaga. There we are all to be sold, if any will buy us, and then we shall be taken away, who knows whither? and you and I, Yúsufu, will never see one another again.” This was rather startling and unpleasant news. “In two days, thou sayest, we shall be there?” I said. “Yes; or perhaps to-morrow night,” she replied; and then she added in a low but emphatic whisper, “Yúsufu, thou must get thee away to-night.” “Must get me away!” I exclaimed. “It is well to talk of getting away; but how?” “I thought of a way,” she answered. “Listen! When we crossed the stream this afternoon, I felt something hard stick in the sole of my sandal against my foot, and all the afternoon I could not kick it out. When I lay down, I picked it out with my fingers and kept it. It is a little piece of broken shell, and one edge is quite sharp like a knife. Now, thy manacles and the fetters on thy ankles are of cord, not iron like ours, and I doubt not that I can cut through them with the piece of shell. Then thou canst easily untie thy halter from the rope, and so wilt be free; and if thou goest far enough before the morning, they will never catch thee again.” I pondered. It sounded a good and feasible plan, and it was apparently my last chance. “But what about thee, Aminé?” I asked. “Thy fetters are of iron.” “Alas! yes,” she replied sadly. “There is nothing to be done for me. I must go to the market, and be sold like the rest; but I shall be glad to think that thou at least art free.”