“Feliciane,” she said coaxingly. “I will give you more money than you ever had in all your life before if you will turn this boat back.”
“No, missy. Yer can’t hiah me ter do nuffin ob dat kine,” came the relentless tones of the darky. “Feliciane knows what’s good fer huh, an’ she’s gwine ter do it.”
“Well, my basket shall not go at any rate,” cried Jeanne and she caught it up to throw it overboard. But the darky seized her arm in a strong grip and took the basket from her.
“Be quiet, missy,” she said, “er I’ll hab ter settle yer. An’ missus won’t keer nuther. She done laik yer nohow.”
Jeanne could do nothing in the woman’s powerful clasp, and was compelled to relinquish her hold on the basket. Placing it behind her the negress took the oars again and resumed her rowing. Silence fell between the two and steadily they drew nearer to the farther shore. At last after what seemed hours to Jeanne the keel of the boat grated upon the sand and the woman sprang out and drew the skiff upon the bank.
“Come,” she said to Jeanne and the girl mechanically followed her.
“Halt! who goes there?” came the challenge.
“A frien’,” responded Feliciane. “Done yer know me, sah?”
“Feliciane,” exclaimed a voice joyfully. “You are a jewel. Have you anything for us? Who is with you?”
“Yes, sah; heah in dis basket missus sent. It’s all erbout a ’tack what de Yanks is a-gwine ter make on you folks. Missus kum moughty nigh bein’ kotched de las’ time, an’ so she sent de lill’ missy with me.”