Watch and Wait Part 25

The long, gloomy night that followed pa.s.sed away, the anxious watchers still keeping vigil by turns upon the deck of the Isabel. The next day, while Lily was keeping watch, both Dan and Cyd being asleep in the cabin, she heard the dip of oars in the bayou. Her heart beat a furious tattoo against her ribs, and she almost sank with horror, as she listened to the sounds which indicated the approach of the dreaded enemy. It was her duty to call Dan; but she seemed to be riveted to her seat. The sounds came nearer and nearer, and soon she could hear the voices of the slave-hunters. She could distinguish the curses that fell from their lips as they advanced, and she was faint and sick with apprehension.

The Isabel was moored at some distance from the bayou, which led to the lake; but through the dense foliage which shrouded the boat, she could discover the slave-hunters. They were now not forty rods distant, and the slightest sound might betray their hiding-place. With quivering lips and trembling limbs, she peered through the bushes to ascertain whether the boat turned up the channel which led to the camp. It was a moment of terrible suspense; a moment fraught with the issues of freedom or slavery--life or death.

Why did she not call her companions, who were sleeping peacefully in the cabin, while she was torn and distracted by these agonizing fears? She dared not do so, lest one of them should speak and betray them all. Cyd was impetuous, and a word from him might render futile the labors and the perils of months.

Hardly daring to breathe lest it should undo them, she watched the progress of the boat. The slave-hunters paused at the mouth of the channel, consulted for a few moments, and then the bow of the boat was turned towards the camp. With a gasp of horror, Lily crouched down upon the floor of the standing room, and crept towards the cabin door. A torrent of despair seemed to be turned loose upon her soul. She grasped the side of the cabin door, when suddenly all her strength forsook her, and she sank senseless upon the floor. The terrible agony of that tremendous moment was more than she could endure, and she fainted.

The frail and delicate watcher had failed in the important duty she had a.s.sumed at the very instant when her warning notes were most needed, and the fugitives were then apparently at the mercy of the slave-hunters.

Dan slept, Cyd slept; both wearied out with watching and hard work, all unconscious that their gentle, willing sentinel had failed them, and that the fiends they dreaded were within pistol shot of their retreat.

They slept, and were silent. Lily, senseless upon the floor of the standing room, pale and motionless as a marble statue chiselled in the form of angelic beauty, was silent as the grave. Not a breath of air stirred the forest leaves, not a ripple agitated the waters. It was perfect stillness in the camp. There was no sound to disturb the solemn quiet of that temple of nature, save the ribald speech of the slave-hunters, mingled with fiendish curses.

There was none to keep watch and ward in the camp of the fugitives--none but He who watches over the innocent when they sleep and when they wake.

He was there keeping ceaseless vigil by the senseless maiden, and over the sleeping boys. "He doeth all things well;" and the very silence that reigned in the camp saved the fugitives from the keen scrutiny of the enemy.

The hunters remained in the vicinity for a few moments, and finding no clew to the fugitives, turned their boat, and went back to the bayou.

They proceeded up the stream a few miles farther, and then, abandoning the search in this direction, returned to the lake.

Still Dan slept, and Cyd slept, and Lily still lay silent in marble stillness upon the floor at the door of the cabin.

CHAPTER XX.

PREPARING FOR THE VOYAGE.

The deep silence which pervaded the camp was first broken by Dan. He woke slowly from his profound slumbers, looked about him for a moment, then glanced at Cyd, who, contrary to his usual custom, did not snore.

Every thing was still; his ear was not saluted with the sharp crack of a slave-hunter's rifle, and no curses disturbed the solemn silence of the place. Every thing seemed to be secure, and he wondered that the enemy had not yet appeared.

He was tempted to turn over and go to sleep, for he still felt very weary, and his repose had not restored his wonted vigor. But he concluded to go on deck, as every prudent skipper should, before he finished his nap. Rising leisurely from his bunk, he made his way to the standing room where he was almost paralyzed at the discovery of Lily lying apparently dead upon the floor.

Dan was prompt and decided in action; and taking the insensible girl in his arms, he placed her upon the cushioned seat. Tremulous with emotion, he bent over her to ascertain whether his worst fears were to be realized. Her heart beat; there was life, and there was hope.

"Cyd! Cyd!" shouted he, in tones which would have roused a sleepier boy than his fellow-fugitive, and which, had it been heard a quarter of an hour sooner, would have brought the slave-hunters upon them.

Cyd leaped from his couch as the imperative tones of Dan reached his ears, fully believing that the enemy, for whom they had been so patiently preparing, was upon them. Seizing a gun which lay upon the table, he rushed aft, ready to do his share in the impending battle.

"Wha--wha--whar's de n.i.g.g.e.r-hunters?" demanded he, furiously.

"They are not here; there is no danger," replied Dan, calmly, as he continued to rub the temples of Lily.

"Possifus! Wha--wha--what's de matter wid Missy Lily?" cried he, as soon as he saw the insensible form of the maiden.

"Bring me a pitcher of water, Cyd."

"Is she dead?" gasped the poor fellow, as he obtained a better view of the pale face of Lily.

"No, no; bring me the water--quick."

Cyd obeyed the order, and Dan sprinkled her face with the contents of the pitcher. He then left her for a moment to procure some lavender in her cabin. Though not a very skilful nurse, he had seen a lady faint, and knew what to do upon such an emergency. He applied the lavender and the cold water so vigorously, and yet so tenderly, that Lily soon began to show signs of returning consciousness.

"What's de matter wid her?" demanded Cyd for the tenth time, for Dan was too busy to waste time in answering idle questions.

"She is better," mused Dan, as he pushed back the curls that had strayed forward upon the patient's face.

"Hossifus! Dis chile knows what ails Missy Lily," continued Cyd, opening his mouth to the utmost of its tension, and exhibiting all its wealth of ivory.

"What's the matter with you, Cyd? Shut your mouth, and behave like a decent man," added Dan, rebuking the levity of his companion.

"Gossifus! Dis chile knows all about dat; been dar hisself," chuckled Cyd. "Dis chile neber tink Missy Lily drink too much whiskey."

"Silence! you rascal! How dare you think such a thing!" replied Dan, sternly; for he was vexed enough to pitch Cyd overboard for indulging in such a suspicion.

"Mossifus! Dat's jus de way dis chile was."

"Silence! She has fainted. She is better now. See! She is opening her eyes."

Dan continued to bathe the temples of Lily with lavender till her consciousness returned, and the terrible incident which had preceded her fainting was present to her mind. Suddenly, as Dan left her for a moment, she sprang upon her feet, and rushed to the place where she had stood gazing at the approaching boat.

"Where are they?" gasped she.

"Lie down again, Lily. You are too weak to stand," interposed Dan, as he put his arms around her waist to support her.

"Where are they? O, we are all lost!" exclaimed she.

"What do you mean by _lost_?"

"Where are they?"

"Who, Lily? What is the matter with you?"

"Haven't you seen them, Dan?"

"Seen whom?"

"The slave-hunters!" gasped Lily.

"I haven't seen any one," replied Dan, calmly; for he began to fear that the mind of his fair charge was affected.

"They are here--close by us, Dan. We shall all be taken."

"There is no danger, Lily. We are perfectly safe. Be calm, my dear. You have been dreaming."

"No, I have not been dreaming. I haven't even been asleep. It was all real; but I have been a faithless sentinel."

"Now you are better, Lily, tell me all about it," continued Dan, seating her upon the cushions.