the work on the plantations. A white
slave like a black one ought to be in good health."

The captain laughed. He was in high humor. Robert knew that he felt
intense satisfaction because he was taking revenge for his mortification
when he was defeated in the duel with swords before his own men by a
mere boy. Evidently that would rankle long with one of the slaver's
type.

"I'm glad to see you recognize facts so well, Peter," he said. "I see
that you've an ambition to excel on the plantations, perhaps to be the
best worker. Now, Garay, telling me of that little adventure of his in
the forest with the hunter, the Indian and you, wanted me to be very
careful about your rations, to put you on a sparing diet, so to speak.
He thought it would be best not to let you have anything to eat for two
or three days. His idea rather appealed to me, too, but, on the other
hand, I couldn't impair your value, and so I decided against him."

"I'm not hungry," said Robert.

"No, but you will be. You're young and strong, and that wound on your
head where I had to hit you with the butt of my pistol doesn't amount to
much."

Robert put up his hands, felt of the back of his head, where the ache
was, and found that the hair was matted together by congealed blood. But
he could tell that the hurt was not deep.

"I'll leave you now," said the slaver in the same satisfied tone, "and I
hope you'll enjoy the voyage down the river. There's a good wind blowing
and we start in a half hour."

He went out, taking the lantern with him, and bolted the door heavily
behind him. Then Robert felt despair for a while. It was much worse to
be a prisoner on the ship than in the French camp or in the village of
the partisan, Langlade. There he had been treated with consideration and
the fresh winds of heaven blew about him, but here he was shut up in a
close little hole, and his captors rejoiced in his misery.

It was quite dark in the tiny galley, and the only air that entered came
from a small porthole high over a bunk. He stood upon the bank and
brought his face level with the opening. It was not more than four
inches across, but he was able to inhale a pure and invigorating breeze
that blew from the north, and he felt better. The pain in his head was
dying down also, and his courage, according to its habit, rose fast. In
a character that nature had compounded of optimistic materials hope was
always a predominant factor.

He could see nothing through