"Yes, I will help you, my child. I were less than man could I let this thing go on and make no attempt to rescue you from so dark a fate. But—"
He paused, and she waited anxiously with her straining gaze fixed on his troubled face.
"But," he went on slowly, "I can not see my way clear yet; I must think, must decide. And it is not safe to remain out here longer. They may come out here and find me at any moment. Little one, can you trust me to go away and think it all over, and then come back to you?"
A moment of silence, then she rose and stood before him.
"Yes, yes, I will trust you," she said, gently; then, with sudden desperation, "Should—should you not come back I will never be taken by him. There—is—still—the—river!"
"Do not think of that," he said, quickly; "I will soon return. Trust me wholly. Have I not promised to be your friend?"
"Yes, yes," eagerly.
She put out her hands as if to clasp his arm, then suddenly withdrew them. Frank and child-like as she was, she was coy and shy as a fawn. She clasped her delicate hands before her, and stood waiting.
"Now, tell me, is there not some way by which I can gain the street without returning to the house?" said Van Zandt.