"Thus I speakee you and say," said Benee. "You trustee I?"
"Assuredly!"
"Den you let me go?"
"How and where?"
"I go fast as de wind, fleeter dan de rain-squall, far ober de mountains ob Madeira, far froo' de wild, dark forest. I heed noting, I fear noting. No wil' beas' makee Benee 'fraid. I follow de cannibals. I reach de country longee time 'foh you. I creepee like one snake to de hut ob poh deah Peggy. She no can fly wid me, but I 'sure her dat you come soon, in two moon p'laps, or free. I make de chile happy. Den I creep and glide away again all samee one black snake, and come back to find you. I go?"
Roland took the man's hand. Savage though he was, there was kindness and there was undoubted sincerity in those dark, expressive eyes, and our hero at once gave the permission asked.
"But," he said, "the way is long and dangerous, my good Benee, so here I give you two long-range six-shooters, a repeating-rifle, and a box of cartridges. May God speed your journey, and bring you safely back with news that shall inspire our hearts! Go!"
Benee glided away as silently as he had come, and next morning his place was found empty. But would their trust in this man reap its reward, or--awful doubt--was Benee false?
Next night but one something very strange happened.
All was silent in and around Burnley Hall, and the silvery tones of the great tower clock had chimed the hour of three, when the window of Mr. Peter's room was silently opened, and out into the moonlight glided the man himself.