He decided that he would wait.
To-morrow he would take Juba and the horses and the child and go down into the valley; not back to the sugar-tree and that yet smouldering pyre, but to the woods on this side of the stream.
This plan thought out, he went; and took his seat beside the child.

She was moaning in her sleep, and he bent over and soothed her.

When she was quiet he still kept her hand in his, as he sat there waiting for the dawn.
He gave the child small thought.

Together he and Juba must care for her until they could rejoin the expedition: then the Governor, who was so fond of children, might take her in hand, and give her for nurse old Dominick, who was as gentle as a woman.

Once at Germanna perhaps some scolding _Hausfrau_ would take her, for the sake of the scrubbing and lifting to be gotten out of those small hands and that slender frame.