held dat
pistol plum 'gainst mah hed, Ah'd mos' likely find dis Amos Shrunk.
Good Lord, sah!" and his voice sank to a whisper, "Ah just can't git
hol' o' all dis--Ah sure can't, sah--'bout her bein' a nigger."

Rene turned about, lifting her face into the starlight.

"Whether I am white or colored, Sam," she said, quietly, "can make
little difference to you now. I am a woman, and am asking your help.
I can trust you, can I not?"

The negro on his knees stared at her, the whites of his eyes
conspicuous. Then suddenly he jerked off his old hat.

"Ah 'spects yer kin, Missus," he pledged himself in a tone of
conviction which made my heart leap. "Ah's bin a slave-nigger fer
forty-five years, but just de same, Ah ain't never bin mean ter no
woman. Yas, sah, yer don't neither one ob yer eber need ter ask Sam no
mor'--he's a goin' thro' wid yer all ter de end--he sure am, Ma'm."

Silence descended upon us, and I slipped the pistol back into my
pocket. Rene rested her cheek on her hand and gazed straight ahead
into the night. Her head seemed to droop, and I realized that her eyes
saw nothing except those scenes pictured by her thoughts. Sam busied
himself about his work, muttering occasionally under his breath, and
shaking his head as though struggling with some problem, but the few
words I caught were disconnected, yielding me no knowledge of what he
was trying to solve. The bow of the boat had been deflected to the
north, and was silently cleaving the sluggish downward trend of the
water, for we had passed out of the swifter current and were close in
to the eastern shore. The bank appeared low and unwooded, a mere black
line barely above the water level and I guessed that behind it
stretched uninhabitable marshes overflowed by the spring floods.

As we fought our way up stream the boat gradually drew away, the low
shore fading from view as the negro sought deeper water, until finally
the craft was nearly in the center of the broad stream where the eye
could see only turbulent water sweeping past on every side.
Occasionally a log scraped along our side, dancing about amid foam, or
some grotesque branch, reaching out gaunt arms, swept by. The stars
overhead reflected their dim light from off the surface, rendering
everything more weird and desolate. The intense loneliness of the
scene seemed to clutch my soul. Far off to the left a few winking
lights appeared, barely perceptible, and I touched the negro, pointi