that was different from riding with one
in a cart.

When it was time to go, Mis' Molly and Rena set out on foot for the
river, which was only a short distance away. Frank followed with the
valise. There was no gathering of friends to see Rena off, as might
have been the case under different circumstances. Her departure had
some of the characteristics of a secret flight; it was as important
that her destination should not be known, as it had been that her
brother should conceal his presence in the town.

Mis' Molly and Rena remained on the bank until the steamer announced,
with a raucous whistle, its readiness to depart. Warwick was seen for
a moment on the upper deck, from which he greeted them with a smile and
a slight nod. He had bidden his mother an affectionate farewell the
evening before. Rena gave her hand to Frank.

"Good-by, Frank," she said, with a kind smile; "I hope you and mamma
will be good friends while I'm gone."

The whistle blew a second warning blast, and the deck hands prepared to
draw in the gang-plank. Rena flew into her mother's arms, and then,
breaking away, hurried on board and retired to her state-room, from
which she did not emerge during the journey. The window-blinds were
closed, darkening the room, and the stewardess who came to ask if she
should bring her some dinner could not see her face distinctly, but
perceived enough to make her surmise that the young lady had been
weeping.

"Po' chile," murmured the sympathetic colored woman, "I reckon some er
her folks is dead, er her sweetheart 's gone back on her, er e'se she's
had some kin' er bad luck er 'nuther. W'ite folks has deir troubles
jes' ez well ez black folks, an' sometimes feels 'em mo', 'cause dey
ain't ez use' ter 'em."

Mis' Molly went back in sadness to the lonely house behind the cedars,
henceforth to be peopled for her with only the memory of those she had
loved. She had paid with her heart's blood another installment on the
Shylock's bond exacted by society for her own happiness of the past and
her children's prospects for the future.

The journey down the sluggish river to the seaboard in the
flat-bottomed, stern-wheel steamer lasted all day and most of the
night. During the first half-day, the boat grounded now and then upon
a sand-bank, and the half-naked negro deck-hands toiled with ropes and
poles to release it. Several times before Rena fell asleep that night,
the steamer would tie up at a landing, an