r asked Robert of himself, feeling that somewhere there
was a spot still too sore to bear the lightest touch; but, from his
language, manner, and intelligence, I inferred that his color had
procured for him the few advantages within the reach of a quick-witted,
kindly treated slave. Silent, grave, and thoughtful, but most
serviceable, was my contraband; glad of the books I brought him,
faithful in the performance of the duties I assigned to him, grateful
for the friendliness I could not but feel and show toward him. Often I
longed to ask what purpose was so visibly altering his aspect with such
daily deepening gloom. But I never dared, and no one else had either
time or desire to pry into the past of this specimen of one branch of
the chivalrous "F.F.Vs."

On the seventh night, Dr. Franck suggested that it would be well for
some one, besides the general watchman of the ward, to be with the
captain, as it might be his last. Although the greater part of the two
preceding nights had been spent there, of course I offered to
remain,--for there is a strange fascination in these scenes, which
renders one careless of fatigue and unconscious of fear until the
crisis is passed.

"Give him water as long as he can drink, and if he drops into a natural
sleep, it may save him. I'll look in at midnight, when some change will
probably take place. Nothing but sleep or a miracle will keep him now.
Good night."

Away went the Doctor; and, devouring a whole mouthful of grapes, I
lowered the lamp, wet the captain's head, and sat down on a hard stool
to begin my watch. The captain lay with his hot, haggard face turned
toward me, filling the air with his poisonous breath, and feebly
muttering, with lips and tongue so parched that the sanest speech would
have been difficult to understand. Robert was stretched on his bed in
the inner room, the door of which stood ajar, that a fresh draught from
his open window might carry the fever-fumes away through mine. I could
just see a long, dark figure, with the lighter outline of a face, and,
having little else to do just then, I fell to thinking of this curious
contraband, who evidently prized his freedom highly, yet seemed in no
haste to enjoy it. Doctor Franck had offered to send him on to safer
quarters, but he had said, "No, thank yer, Sir, not yet," and then had
gone away to fall into one of those black moods of his, which began to
disturb me, because I had no power to lighten them. As I