"Was it all fair an' above-board, Geo'ge, to kiss dat leetle gal when she was all alone and unpurtected? Was it all fair an' above-board to call her you dear _chile_, as if you was her fadder?" "Come, come, Peter, `everything is fair,' you know, `in love and war.' But that's not the point. Can you guess, I ask, Ben-Ahmed's motive for acting so oddly?" "Oh! yis, Geo'ge, I kin guess a'most anybody's motives, zough, p'r'aps, I mightn't guess right. I shouldn't wonder, now, if Ben-Ahmed will hab to account to do Dey for de tottle disappearance of Hugh Sommers--to say not'ing ob Eddard La--La--what's-'is-name--an' p'r'aps he'd like to be able to say he'd no notion o' what de man he sent to fetch de slabe was goin' to do. Now he couldn't hab say dat, you know, if he let you tell him all about it--like a goose as you was. So he let you go off, d'ye see, gib you your orders so far, an' labes de rest to your good sense-- zough dere wasn't too much ob dat to leab it to, or you wouldn't hab bring away Eddard La--La--t'ing-um-bob." "But do you really mean to tell me, Peter, that Ben-Ahmed intended me and Hugh Sommers to escape?" "Das really what I means to tell you, Geo'ge." "Then why didn't you tell me all, this before, and save me from a deal of uncertainty?" "Cause, in de fuss' place, I had no time to tell you; in de second place, I was ordered not to tell you; in de t'ird place, it's good for midshipmen to be put on deir mettle, an' lef' to find deir own way out ob diffikilties, an', in de fourf place, slabes hab no business to be axin' de outs an' ins, de whys an' de wherefores of deir massa's affairs." "Well, I always knew Ben-Ahmed had a kind heart, but little thought it was so kind and self-sacrificing as to buy Sommers for the very purpose of setting him free. I regret, deeply, that I did not know this sooner, and that I cannot now have the chance of thanking him with all my heart and soul, and bidding the good man farewell. It is one comfort, however, that I'll be able to send a message back by you. And I'm also glad that I shall not have to part from you, my dear Peter, without telling you how much I love you and how sorry, very, _very_ sorry, I am to say good-bye." "Geo'ge," returned the negro earnestly, "don't you count your cheekins afore dey's hatched! You're not away yit." Foster made no reply. To say truth, he felt a little hurt by the way in which his protestations of regard were received, and, by way of changing the subject, he asked if Peter had ever heard anything about the old Dane and his wife and daughter who had been captured at the same time with himself. "Dey's bin ransom'd, all ob dem. Got rich friends, you see. Hole your tongue now, Geo'ge, we's comin' to de place."