“A lieutenant of infantry.”

She held out her hand and my own closed over it, the firm, warm clasp of her fingers sending a strange thrill through my whole body.  An instant she looked directly into my eyes, down into the very soul of me, and what I read in the depths of her brown orbs could never find expression in words.  I have thought of it often since—­that great, dimly-lighted room, with the guard at the outer door; the inert, almost lifeless body huddled on the floor beside us, and Rene Beaucaire, her hand clasped in mine.

“Lieutenant Knox,” she said softly, yet with a note of confidence in the low voice, “no woman was ever called upon to make a more important choice than this.  Although I am a slave, now I am free to choose.  I am going to trust you absolutely; there are reasons why I so decide which I cannot explain at this time.  I have not known you long enough to venture that far.  You must accept me just as I am—­a runaway slave and a negress, but also a woman.  Can you pledge such as I your word of honor—­the word of a soldier and a gentleman?”

“I pledge it to you, Rene Beaucaire,” I answered soberly.

“And I accept the pledge in all faith.  From now on, whatever you say I will do.”

I had but one immediate purpose in my mind—­to escape from the house as quickly as possible, to attain Pete’s cart at the edge of the woods and be several miles up the river, hidden away in some covert before daylight, leaving no trail behind.  The first part of this hasty program would have to be carried out instantly, for any moment a suspicion might cause Carver to throw open the door leading into the hallway and expose our position.  Kirby was already showing unmistakable symptoms of recovery, while those other men idling on the front porch might begin to wonder what was going on so long inside and proceed to investigate.  By this time they must be nervously anxious to get away.  Besides, it would prove decidedly to our advantage if I was not seen or recognized.  The very mystery, the bewilderment as to who had so viciously attacked the gambler and then spirited away the girl, would serve to facilitate our escape.  Theories as to how it had been accomplished would be endless and the pursuit delayed.

I stooped and removed a pistol from Kirby’s pocket, dropping it, together with such ammunition as I could find, into one of my own.  The man by this time was breathing heavily, although his eyes remained closed, and he still lay exactly as he had fallen.

“Keep your own weapon,” I commanded her.  “Hide it away in your dress.  Now come with me.”

She obeyed, uttering no word of objection, and stepping after me through the open window onto the narrow balcony without.  I reached up and drew down the shade, leaving us in comparative darkness.  The night was soundless and our eyes, straining to pierce the black void, were unable to detect any movement.