upturned face. It was
breathless, mottled, hideously ugly, to all appearances the face of a
dead man, but it brought to me no sense of remorse. The cur--"the
unspeakable cur." In my heart I hoped he was dead, and in a sudden
feeling of utter contempt, I struck the inert body with my foot. Then,
as my eyes lifted, they encountered those of the girl. She had drawn
back to the table, startled out of all reserve by this sudden
apparition, unable to comprehend. Doubt, questioning, fright found
expression in her face. The pistol yet remained clasped in her hand,
while she stared at me as though a ghost confronted her.

"Who--who are you?" she managed to gasp, in a voice which barely
reached my ears. "My God! who--who sent you here?"

"It must have been God," I answered, realizing instantly that I needed
to make all clear in a word. "I came only to help you, and was just in
time--no doubt God sent me."

"To help me? You came here to help me? But how could that be? I--I
never saw you before--who are you?"

I stood straight before her, my eyes meeting her own frankly. I had
forgotten the dead body at my feet, the incidents of struggle, the pain
of my own wound, comprehending only the supreme importance of
compelling her to grasp the truth.

"There is no time now to explain all this, Miss Rene. You must accept
the bare facts--will you?"

"Yes--I--I suppose I must."

"Then listen, for you must know that every moment we waste here in talk
only makes escape more difficult. I tell you the simple truth. I am
Steven Knox, an officer in the army. It chanced I was a passenger on
the boat when Judge Beaucaire lost his life. I witnessed the game of
cards this man won, and afterwards, when I protested, was attacked, and
flung overboard into the river by Kirby here, and that fellow who is
outside guarding the door. They believe me to be dead; but I managed
to reach shore, and was taken care of by a negro--'Free Pete' he calls
himself; do you know him?"

"Yes--oh, yes; he was one of the Carlton slaves." Her face brightened
slightly in its bewilderment.

"Well, I knew enough of what was bound to occur to feel an interest,
and tonight he brought me here for the purpose of warning you--you,
your mother, and Eloise Beaucaire. He has his cart and mule out
yonder; we intended to transport you across the river, and thus start
you safely on the way to Canada."

"Then," she said slowly, seeming to catch at her breath