"Peterson," said Walter.
"Here I is. Who is you?"
"Walter—Walter Griffin."
"Bress de Lord! Who is wid you?"
"Little Ned, Sewall Lancaster, and Dick Cameron, your shipmate in the Leonidas, and old Neptune as cook. We are here in the Perseverance, and have come after you. Luce and the children, Captain Rhines, Lion Ben, and all our folks are well."
"Bress de Lord. He's too good; O, bress de Lord."
"Here, Peterson, take this;" and Walter took from his pocket a long piece of tarred twine, with a nail at the end of it, and fastening the string to a piece of rattan, thrust it through the grates.
"What dis for?"
"I dare not stay any longer now. When it is dark, tie this string round your wrist, and drop the nail out of the window. I'll come here at twelve o'clock to-night, when Jean is asleep, pull it to wake you up, and then we can talk more, and lay our plans."
At the appointed time Walter was on the spot. After telling Peterson how they ascertained he was sold and where he was, he asked,—