"Put your hand on mine, Cass. Lift hit up an' say with me that word." She placed her palm on his uplifted palm. "So help me, God," they said together. Then, with streaming tears, she put her arms about his neck and gently drew his face down to her own. "I'll go back now, Frale, and you do all I've said. Go quick. I'll write Bishop Towahs, and he'll watch out for you, and find you work. Let Doctah Thryng help you. He sure is a good man. Oh, if you only could write!" "I'll larn." "You'll have a heap more to learn than you guess. I've been there, and I know. Don't give up, Frale, and--and stay--" "I hain't going to give up with your promise here, Cass; kiss me." She did so, and he slowly released her, looking back as he walked away. "Oh, hurry, Frale! Don't look back. It's a bad omen." She turned, and without one backward glance descended the mountain. CHAPTER VI IN WHICH DAVID AIDS FRALE TO MAKE HIS ESCAPE Elated by his talk with Cassandra, Frale walked eagerly forward, but as he neared Thryng's cabin he moved more slowly. Why should he let that doctor help him? He could reach Farington some way--travelling by night and hiding in the daytime. But David was watching for him and strolled down to meet him. "Good morning. Your sister says there is no time to lose. Come in here, and we'll see if we can find a way out of this trouble." Having learned not to expect any response to remarks not absolutely demanding one, and not wishing the silence to dominate, David talked on, as he led Frale into the cabin and carefully closed the door behind them. Thryng's intuition was subtle and his nature intense and strong. He had been used to dealing with men, and knew that when he wished to, he usually gained his point. Feeling the antagonism in Frale's heart toward himself, he determined to overcome it. Be it pride, jealousy, or what not, it must give way. He had learned only that morning that circumlocution or pretence of any sort would only drive the youth further into his fortress of silence, and close his nature, a sealed well of turbid feeling, against him; therefore he chose a manner pleasantly frank, taking much for granted, and giving the boy no chance to refuse his help, by assuming it to have been already accepted. "We are about the same size, I think? Yes. Here are some things I laid out for you. You must look as much like me as possible, and as unlike yourself, you know. Sit here and we'll see what can be done for your head." "You're right fair, an' I'm dark." "Oh, that makes very little difference. It's the general appearance we must get at. Suppose I try to trim your hair a little so that lock on your forehead won't give you away." "I reckon I can do it. Hit's makin' you a heap o' trouble." David was pleased to note the boy's mood softening, and helped him on.