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ANNING and Giles listened with tense faces as Virginia, with wild eyes and feverish speech, told her amazing story. Then Manning, the cold, the self-contained, less emotional than a Sioux Indian, reached out and pressed his sister's hand.

"I am proud of my little, sister," he said.

Giles said little in words; he was not good at saying things; his eyes, as they rested upon Virginia, spoke sufficiently.

"Oh, Manning!" cried Virginia breathlessly. "Do you think that I shot that man … killed him?"

"No, sister," answered Manning slowly, "but if Dessalines is mad, as you seem to think that he is, I would not give much for his life. Don't think about it, dear. It was an accidental act of yours and if you had shot him purposely you would have been quite justified. You are mistress here."

"Serve him right, the skulker!" said Giles savagely.

Manning was silent for several moments. "The whole countryside will be hunting your Haytian to-morrow," he said. "A regiment of soldiers would be needed to protect him now—that is, if he were first to fall into the hands of the crackers." He pondered.

"But you will try to save him, Manning, will you not?" begged Virginia. 287