LILY ON THE WATCH.
The death of poor Quin filled his companions with sorrow and dismay.
There was weeping all night long on board of the Isabel. He had been a
true and faithful friend to each individual of the party, and they were
all sincerely and devotedly attached to him. With this sad bereavement
came the sense of personal peril, for those who had slain their
associate would not be content till they had driven his companions from
their covert, and shed their blood or again reduced them to slavery.
Lily was disposed to abandon all her hopes in despair, and Cyd trembled
with fear as he thought of what the next day or the next week might
bring forth. But the energy and firmness of Dan soon quieted their
fears, and restored, in some measure, the confidence which had before
prevailed in the camp.
"We have defeated the slave-hunters twice, and we can do it again," said
he, as he rose from his seat at the cabin table, around which, as Dan
ate his supper, the party had considered their sad and perilous
condition.
"It's terrible to think of poor Quin," said Lily. "He was so good and
kind."
"And we have one arm less to assist in our defence. Don't cry any more,
Lily. I'm afraid we haven't seen the worst of it yet."
"Can't we do something? Can't we get away from this place?" asked Lily.
"That is impossible. The water is too low to float the Isabel down to
the lake, even if she were ready to go. It will take several days to rig
her, and put her in order for our voyage."
"What will become of us?"
"I don't know. I hope for the best. Don't cry, Lily. I am not afraid of
any thing. If we are resolute, we can defend ourselves if the
slave-hunters should find us, which I don't think they can."
"It's awful to think of fighting and being shot," murmured Lily, as she
cast a tender glance at Dan.
"I thought of all these things before we started, and I will not shrink
from them now. But come, Cyd; we must go to work and unload the bateau."
The stores, which had been procured at such a terrible sacrifice, were
taken on board the Isabel, while the body of poor Quin was laid upon the
trunk cabin, and covered up with a blanket. As they lifted the lifeless
form from the bateau, Dan could not but recall the extravagant joy of
the deceased when the stores were safely embarked. The scene which
followed was a sad commentary on the hopes which the honest fellow had
cherished only a few hours before.
It was necessary that the corpse should be buried that night, for the
weather was warm, and none knew what were to be the events of the coming
day. A suitable spot was selected on one of the adjacent islands, where
Cyd and Dan dug a shallow grave. The remains of poor Quin, wrapped in
the blanket, were then conveyed in the bateau to the spot, and deposited
in their final resting-place. By the dim light of the lantern, Dan read
a chapter from his Testament, and then all of them knelt around the
grave. No audible prayers were repeated, but the hearts of these
sincere mourners were filled with the spirit of prayer; and He who wants
no vain words to praise Him, accepted the solemn but silent service.
The grave was filled, and the fugitives used all their ingenuity to
conceal the broken ground, that it might not betray them to the ruthless
slave-hunters, who might soon visit the spot. With sad hearts they
returned to the camp. Dan was nearly exhausted by the fatigue and
anxiety of the last two days; but he could not sleep while there was any
thing to be done to prepare for the expected visit of the slave-hunters.
His first care was to put all the arms and ammunition in readiness. He
then showed Lily how to load a gun, that she might assist them in the
defence.
On the islands they had collected a great quantity of logs, to serve
them for fuel during the winter. These were carried upon the deck of the
Isabel, and so arranged as to form a kind of breastwork, to shield the
boys from the bullets of the enemy. By noon on the following day, every
thing that could be thought of to conceal or defend the camp had been
done. They were ready for the slave-hunters then, and if Quin had only
been with them, they would have felt confident of the result of an
attack.
In the afternoon Dan was so worn out that he could endure no more, and
at Lily's urgent request he went below, and was soon asleep. Cyd was
fully alive to the necessities of the occasion. He kept his eyes and
ears wide open, but he neither saw nor heard any thing that indicated
the approach of an enemy. Lily, though very much alarmed, was as
resolute as her companions; for she knew and felt what slavery would be
if its shackles were again fastened upon her. She was a gentle, timid,
shrinking girl; but she was determined to die rather than be restored to
the tyranny of her capricious mistress, and the more terrible fate which
would eventually overtake her.
The long, gloomy night that followed passed 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
assumed 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.