“Good-bye. I shall not see you again. I do not know you. You are still a stranger to me.”
He held her hand firmly.
“We must not part in anger,” he said slowly. “I have grave work to do before the day dawns. We may not see each other again.”
She led her horse to the seat quickly and without waiting for his assistance sprang into the saddle.
“Do you not fear my betrayal of your secret?” she asked.
He rode to her side, bent close, and whispered:
“It’s as safe as if locked in the heart of God.”
A little sob caught her voice, yet she said slowly in firm tones:
“If another crime is committed in this county by your Klan, we will never see each other again.”
He escorted her to the edge of the town without a word, pressed her hand in silence, wheeled his horse, and disappeared on the road to the North Carolina line.