"About ten miles."
"And this is not the coast of Acadia."
"Acadia! What country is that? I never heard of it."
"It exists, but never mind. And New York is so near? Tell me that distance again. I like to hear it."
"Ten miles, stranger. When you reach the top of the hill there you can see the houses of Paulus Hook."
Robert felt a great sense of elation, and then of thankfulness. While fortune had been cruel in putting him into the hands of the slaver, it had relented and had taken him out of them, when the chance of escape seemed none.
"Stranger," said the man, "you look grateful about something."
"I am. I have cause to be grateful. I'm grateful that I have my life,
I'm grateful that I have no wounds and I'm grateful that from the top
of the hill there I shall be able to see the houses of Paulus
Hook. And I say also that yours is the kindliest and most welcome face
I've looked upon in many a day. Farewell."
"Farewell," said the man, staring after him.
Two hours later Robert was being rowed across the Hudson by a stalwart waterman. As he passed by the spot where his boat had been cut down by the schooner he took off his hat.