My eyes sought the outlines of the boat lying in the stream below.
"What is there forward of the cockpit, Sam ?" I questioned.

"Beneath the deck, I mean; there seem to be several portholes." "A cabin, sah; 'tain't so awful big, but Massa Donaldson he uster sleep dar off an' on." "The young lady could rest there then ?" "Sure she cud.

'Twas all fixed up fine afore we lef Saint Louee.
Ah'll show yer de way, Missus." She rose to her feet rather eagerly, and stood with one hand resting against the trunk of a small tree.

Her eyes met mine, and endeavored a smile.
"I thank you for thinking of that," she said gratefully.

"I--I really am tired, and--and it will be rest just to be alone.