“But I do not see this from the same viewpoint as you of the South.”

“Oh yes, you do.  The viewpoint is not so dissimilar; not in the same degree, perhaps, but no less truly.  You believe in my right of freedom; you will even fight for that right, but at the same time you realize as I do, that the one drop of black blood in my veins is a bar sinister, now and forever.  It cannot be overcome; it must not be forgotten.  You will pledge me this?”

“Yes—­I pledge you.”

“And, in spite of that drop of black blood, as long as we are together, you will hold me a woman, worthy of respect and honor?  Not a creature, a chattel, a plaything?”

“Will you accept my hand?”

“Yes.”

“Then I will answer you, Rene Beaucaire,” I said, soberly, “with all frankness, black or white I am your friend, and never, through any word or act of mine, shall you ever regret that friendship.”

Her wide-open eyes gazed straight at me.  It seemed as if she would never speak.  Then I felt the tightening pressure of her hand, and her head bent slowly forward as though in the instinct of prayer.

“Thank God!” she whispered softly.  “Now I can go with you.”

I waited breathless, conscious of the trembling of her body against mine.  Once again the bowed head was lifted, and this time a sparkle of unshed tears were visible in the shadowed eyes.

“You have not yet explained to me what we were to do?  Your plans for tomorrow?”

“Because I scarcely have any,” I replied, comprehending that now she claimed partnership in this adventure.  “This has all occurred so suddenly, I have only acted upon impulse.  No doubt those back at the Landing will endeavor to pursue us; they may have discovered already our means of escape and procured boats.  My principal hope is that they may take it for granted that we have chosen the easier way and gone down stream.  If so we shall gain so much more time to get beyond their reach.  Anyway we can easily out-distance any rowboat, and Sam tells me there is nothing else to be had at the Landing.”

“But why have you chosen the northern route?  Surely you had a reason?”

“Certainly; it was to deceive them and get out of slave territory as quickly as possible.  There are friends in this direction and none in the other.  If we should endeavor to flee by way of the Ohio, we would be compelled to run a thousand-mile gauntlet.  There are slaves in Illinois—­it has never been declared a free state—­but these are held almost exclusively in the more southern counties.  North of the river the settlers are largely from New England, and the majority of them hate slavery and are ready to assist any runaway to freedom.”

“But you have spoken of a man—­Amos Shrunk—­who is he?”

“You have certainly heard rumors, at least, that there are regular routes of escape from here to Canada?”

“Yes; it has been discussed at the house.  I have never clearly understood, but I do know that slaves disappear and are never caught.  I was told white men helped them.”