."

"Know why, don't you?"

"No."

"You do: I telled you. He zays, as you heered, that I set the zailors
on 'em to get 'em brought out here."

Nic said nothing.

"He means to kill me one o' these days. He'll hit me on the head, or
pitch me into the river, or zomething; and the others won't interfere."

Nic looked up at the speaker quickly.

"Comes hard on me," continued Pete. "I never done nothing, and they
keeps me off, and don't speak; and you don't, Master Nic, zo I zeem all
alone like. It makes me feel zometimes as if I must make mates o' the
blacks, but I s'pose they wouldn't care for me. Wish I'd got drowned."

Nic raised his head to look in the man's face; but the old trouble
rankled in his breast. His heart would not go out to him,
fellow-sufferers though they were.

It was so several times over, Pete trying hard to show what goodwill he
could under their painful circumstances; but it was not until that day
out in the corn-rows, when Pete helped him with his work at a time when
the heat was trying his barely-recovered strength, that Nic felt that
perhaps there was some truth in the man's story. At any rate, he was
showing himself repentant if guilty, and the prisoner recalled how Pete
had nursed him and without doubt had saved his life.

Pete went on hoeing till he had worked level with Nic, and then he
worked harder to get as far ahead as he could before slipping back to
his own row, for Nic to return to his with once more a good start, and a
feeling of gratitude for his companion's kindness, which softened his
voice next time he spoke, and delighted Pete, who began talking at once.

"Know where they keep the boat, Master Nic?" he said, as they worked
away.

"No. Do you?"

A few hours earlier Nic would have said, "No," and nothing more.

"Think I do," said Pete, brightening up. "I mean to get it out of the
niggers zomehow. We never zee it go after they've been out in it. They
tie it up at night, and next morning it's always gone."

"Yes," said Nic; "I have noticed that."

"It's that Zamson and old Xerxes who take it away zomewhere in the
night, and walk or zwim back."

"Very likely, Pete."

"Yes, Master Nic; that's it; but keep on hoeing. I've laid awake nights
thinking about it, for we must have that boat. I don't mean Humpy Dee
and his lot when I zay `we,' because you will go off wi' me if I zee a
chance?"

"I--I think not, Pete."

"Master Nic!"

"Well, yes, then; I w