raitor, and had died
sacrificing another man. When Dyck had told her first, she had shivered
with anger and shame--but anger and shame had gone. Only one thing gave
her any comfort--the man who knew Erris Boyne was a traitor, and could
profit by telling it, held his tongue for her own sake, kept his own
counsel, and went to prison for four years as the price of his silence.
He was now her neighbour and he loved her, and, if the shadow of a grave
was not between them, would offer himself in marriage to her. This she
knew beyond all doubt. He had given all a man can give--had saved her
and killed her father--in ignorance had killed her father; in love had
saved herself. What was to be done?

In a strange spirit Sheila entered the room where the governor sat with
her mother. She had reached the limit of her powers of suffering. Soon
after her mother had left the room, the governor said:

"Why do you think I have come here to-day?"

He added to the words a note of sympathy, even of passion in his voice.

"It was to visit my mother and myself, and to see how Salem looks after
our stay on it, was it not?"

"Yes, to see your mother and yourself, but chiefly the latter. As for
Salem, it looks as though a mastermind had been at work, I see it in
everything. The slaves are singing. Listen!"

He held up a finger as though to indicate attention and direction.

"One, two, three,
All de same;
Black, white, brown,
All de same;
All de same.
One, two, three--"

They could hear the words indistinctly.

"What do the words mean?" asked Sheila. "I don't understand them."

"No more do I, but I think they refer to the march of pestilence or
plague. Numbers, colour, race, nothing matters, the plague sweeps all
away. Ah, then, I was right," he added. "There is the story in other
words. Listen again."

To clapping of hands in unison, the following words were sung:

"New-come buckra,
He get sick,
He tak fever,
He be die;
He be die.
New-come buckra--"

"Well, it may be a chant of the plague, but it's lacking in poetry," she
remarked. "Doesn't it seem so to you?"

"No, I certainly shouldn't go so far as that. Think of how much of a
story is crowded into those few words. No waste, nothing thrown away.
It's all epic, or that's my view, anyhow," said the governor. "If you
look