"She certainly is not like what she was when Colonel Forrester first knew her," he said, in the abstracted tone of one talking without reference to any other auditor than himself; "but this comes of preferring a nigger to a white man. Such unnatural courses never can prosper, I take it."
"Captain Jackson," said Gerald, aroused by his remark, and with great emphasis of tone, while he laid his hand impressively on the shoulder of the other, "you do her wrong. Guilty as she has been, fearfully guilty, but not in the sense you would imply."
"How do you know this?" asked the Aide-de-camp.
"From her own solemn declaration at a moment when deception could avail her not. Even before she swallowed the fatal poison, her horror at the imputation, which drove her to the perpetration of murder, was expressed in terms of indignant warmth that belong to truth alone."
"If this be so," said Jackson, musingly, "she is indeed a much injured woman, and deep I know will be the regret of Colonel Forrester when he hears it, for he himself has ever believed her guilty. But come, Liftenant Grantham, we have no time to lose. The day will soon break, and I expect you must be a considerable way from Frankfort before sunrise."
"I—from Frankfort—before sunrise!" exclaimed Gerald, in perfect astonishment.
"Why, it's rather short warning to be sure; but the Colonel thinks you'd better start before the thing gets wind in the morning; for so many of the niggers say you wore a sort of a disguise as well as the poor girl, he fears the citizens may suspect you of something more than an intrigue, and insult you desperately."
"Generous, excellent man!" exclaimed Gerald, "how can I ever repay this most unmerited service?"
"Why, the best way I take it, is to profit by the offer that is made you of getting back to Canada as fast as you can."
"But how is this to be done, and will not the very fact of my flight confirm the suspicion it is intended to remove?"