It was the man who had called himself Benton. Of course he was unknown to the girl. Benton had washed off the war-paint, and appeared a white man, as he was.
A cry of joy rose to Virginia’s lips and she sprung to her feet, but at a sign of caution from him she restrained herself.
To her the face of a white man gave hope of deliverance. She had little suspicion that all her captors were of her own color, and not of the dusky hue of the savage.
“Be silent and cautious,” said Benton, in a whisper; “a word above a breath may cost both of us our lives.”
“You will save me from the hands of these terrible savages?” murmured the girl.
“Yes, I will try to,” replied Benton, “but it will be a task of danger. You must follow my instructions to the letter or we will never escape the toils that surround us.”
“I will do so,” replied Virginia, quickly.
“Come, then; tread cautiously. The savages have left but one man to guard the house, and he has fallen asleep in the thicket.”
Then Benton led the way from the house, and the girl followed, cautiously.
The two passed close to where Bob Tierson lay in the bushes, fast asleep.