“Nor I. I loved you then, although I scarcely acknowledged the truth even to myself.  I went back to my berth to lie awake, and think until morning.  A new world had come to me, and when the dawn broke, I knew what it all meant—­that my heart was yours.  I cared nothing because you were a prisoner, a bound slave under sentence.  We are all alike, we Fairfax’s; we choose for ourselves, and laugh at the world.  That is my answer, Geoffry Carlyle; I give you love for love.”

“’Tis a strange place for such a pledge, with only hope before us.”

“A fit place to my mind in memory of our life together thus far, for all the way it has been stress and danger.  And what more can we ask than hope?”

“I would ask an opportunity denied me—­to stand once more in honor among men.  I would not be shamed before Dorothy Fairfax.”

“Nor need you be,” she exclaimed impetuously, her hands pressing mine.  “You wrong yourself, even as you have been wronged.  You have already done that which shall win you freedom, if it be properly presented to those in power.  I mean that it shall be, once I am safely back in Virginia.  Tell me, what are your plans with—­with this schooner?”

“To beach it somewhere along shore, and leave it there a wreck, while we escape.”

“I suspected as much—­yet, is that the best way?”

“The only way which has occurred to me.  The men insist on it with good reason.  They have been pirates, and might be hung if caught.”

“And yet to my mind,” she insisted earnestly, “that choice is most dangerous.  I am a girl, but if I commanded here, do you know what I would do?”

“I shall be glad to hear.”

“I would sail this vessel straight to the Chesapeake, and surrender it to the authorities.  The men have nothing to fear with me aboard, and ready to testify in their behalf.  The Governor will accept my word without a question.  These men are not pirates, but honest seamen compelled to serve in order to save their lives; they mutinied and captured the bark, but were later overcome, and compelled to take the boats.  The same plea can be made for you, Geoffry, only you were there in an effort to save me.  It is a service which ought to win you freedom.”

“But if it does not?”

“I pledge you my word it shall.  If the Governor fail me, I will bear my story to the feet of the King.  I am a Fairfax, and we have friends in England, strong, powerful friends.  They will listen, and aid me.”

“I am convinced,” I admitted, after a pause, “that this course is the wiser one, but fear the opposition of the men.  They will never go willingly.”

“There is an argument which will overcome their fear.”

“You mean force?” “No; although I doubt not that might suffice.  I mean cupidity.  Each sailor, aboard has an interest in the salvage of this vessel under the English law.  You tell me the schooner was a slaver, driven out to sea by storm immediately after discharging a cargo of slaves.  There must be gold aboard—­perhaps treasure also, for I cannot think a slaver above piracy if chance arose.  Let the crew dream that dream, and you will need no whip to drive them into an English port.”