"I never once thought of speaking to you--truly I did not," she went
on simply. "But when I saw you sitting here all alone, the impulse
came suddenly to tell you how sorry I was. You see," and she paused
doubtfully, "girls brought up in the Colonies, as I have been,
are--are not quite so careful about whom they talk with as in
England--you know what I mean; we always have indentured servants, and
become accustomed to them. It--it is quite different out there."

I laughed, thinking only to relieve her embarrassment.

"Believe me, Miss Dorothy, there is no thought in my mind that you
have done wrong," I insisted swiftly. "That would be very ungrateful,
for you have brought me new heart and hope."

"Then I am not sorry. Were you actually with Monmouth?"

"In sympathy, yes; but I had no hand in the actual fighting. I was not
even ashore until it was all over with. Still I shall pay my share of
the bill."

"And you know what that means, do you not? What will happen when we
reach Virginia?"

"Perfectly; I have no illusions. I have seen just such ships as this
come in. We are to be advertised, and sold to the highest bidder. A
week from now I shall probably be out in the tobacco fields, under the
whip of an overseer, who will call me Jeff. All I can hope for is a
kind-hearted master, and an early opportunity to escape."

"Oh, no!" and in her eagerness her hands actually clasped mine, where