The bewildered girl turned and beheld the black face peering over the
gunwale.

"Miss Orany, here I is. O Lor'! Miss Orany, what we gwine to do?"

She bowed her head toward him and whispered hurriedly, but calmly:

"Mind what I tell you, Phil. You watch where they take us to, and then
run home and tell Master Beverly. Do you understand me, Phil?"

"Yes, I does, Miss Orany;" and the little fellow struck out silently for
the shore, and crept among the bushes.

Oriana betrayed no sign, of fear as she stood with her two companions on
the bank a few paces from their captors. The latter, in a low but
earnest tone, were disputing with one who seemed to act as their leader.

"You didn't tell us nothing about the lady," said a brawny,
rugged-looking fellow, angrily. "Now, look here, Seth Rawbon, this ain't
a goin' to do. I'd cut your heart out, before I'd let any harm come to
Squire Weems's sister."

"You lied to us, you long-headed Yankee turncoat," muttered another.
"What in thunder do you mean bringing us down here for kidnapping a
lady?"

"Ain't I worried about it as much as you?" answered Rawbon. "Can't you
understand it's all a mistake?"