He was just preparing to jump to his feet when he became aware of the fact that another black was near. The sailor put his hand toward a knife in his belt when there came again a momentary pale gleam from the moon. Keith's hand had closed over the handle of the knife and he was within an instant of making a thrust with the blade.
"Marster Trent!" said a guttural voice.
"Who's that?" Keith asked suspiciously, delaying the blow which would have meant death to the black.
"Me Peter Pan," the voice added.
"Mr. Trent was here just now. Where he gone, eh?" Keith asked quickly.
"Come!" said the black, leading the way into the trees. The two men walked a little distance from the compound and then Peter Pan stopped abruptly.
"No can tell who dead," he declared. "Plenty heap big crowd niggers come on ship."
"Where's Mr. Trent? Where's Miss Joan?" Keith asked in a fever of apprehension. He had thought Peter Pan was leading him to them, but Peter Pan, knowing nothing of the fate of those two, had been taking the sailor away from immediate danger.
"No can tell," replied the black. "Plenty nigger kill you damn quick if you no stay here."
