COLONEL RAYBONE CHANGES HIS TONE
The Isabel dashed furiously on her way, passing over the bateau of the
slave-hunters, which presently reappeared astern of her. Colonel
Raybone, who, in spite of his years and his habits, was an active man,
seized the bowsprit of the sail-boat, as it bore his frail bark beneath
the waves; and while Dan and Cyd were eagerly gazing into the water
astern of them in search of their dreaded master, he climbed upon the
forecastle of the Isabel, thus saving himself from the wreck and the
water.
"Hossifus!" groaned Cyd, as he turned to observe the course of the boat,
and discovered upon deck the stalwart form of Colonel Raybone--to him
the most terrible man on the face of the earth.
The exclamation attracted the attention of Dan, and a glance forward
revealed to him the desperate situation of his party. The slave-master,
nearly exhausted by the shock of the collision, and his exertions in
hauling himself up to the deck of the Isabel, had failed to improve the
first moment that ushered him into the presence of his astonished
chattels; and the loss of that opportunity was the ruin of his
expectations. Dan instantly raised his rifle; but the old feeling of awe
and reverence for the sacred person of his master prevented him from
firing at once.
"Hah, you villains! I've got you at last!" said Colonel Raybone.
Without making any reply to this expression of rage and malice, Dan
fired, but not at the head or the heart of the colonel; for he did not
wish to kill him. The rifle was aimed at one of his legs, and the ball
passed through the fleshy part of his thigh. Colonel Raybone, with a
volley of curses, sank upon the deck of the Isabel, a stream of blood
flowing from his wound. Dan dropped the rifle, and took one of the
fowling pieces, ready to complete his work if the occasion should
require. His face was deadly pale, his lips quivered, and his frame
trembled, as though the ball had passed through him, instead of his
master. He had watched and waited too long for liberty and true life to
sacrifice all his hopes, when they were on the point of being realized,
to a sentimental horror of shedding the blood of a slave-master.
Lily, as soon as she heard the report of the rifle, opened her cabin
door, and stepped out into the standing room. The pale face and
quivering lip of Dan first attracted her attention; and when he pointed
to the forecastle, she saw the prostrate form of her master, and sank
upon the seat, overcome with fear and horror.
"Don't be afraid, Lily," said he. "He cannot harm us now."
"Have you killed him?" gasped she.
"No; I did not intend to kill him. I would not have fired at him if I
could have helped it. I only hit him in the leg."
"But he will die."
"He may; I cannot help it. We should have been slaves again in a moment
more if I had not fired."
"This is horrible!" moaned Lily.
"But it is better than slavery," replied Dan, firmly, though he was
scarcely less agitated than his gentle companion. "Mind your helm, Cyd,
and go to windward of that little island ahead," he continued; for the
helmsman's ideas had been considerably shaken up by the stirring events
which had just transpired.
The second boat, astern of the Isabel, was engaged in picking up the
oarsmen of the first, and with the fresh breeze there was no danger of
pursuit from that direction. Colonel Raybone was evidently suffering
severely from his wound, but his mental tortures seemed to be greater
than his physical pain. His mouth was still filled with curses, and
maledictions of rage and hatred were poured out upon the runaways. He
was so violent in his agony, that none of the party dared to approach
him, and Dan stood with the fowling piece in his hand, ready to protect
himself and his companions from any possible assault. There he lay,
unable to rise; but still the Isabel dashed on, as if reckless of the
terrible scene which had just been enacted upon her deck.
Colonel Raybone's wound bled freely, and the loss of blood soon
moderated his fiery temper. Gradually he calmed down, and became quite
reasonable, at least so far as outward manifestations were concerned.
Then Dan ventured to approach him, though he did not relax his hold upon
the gun, and took every precaution to guard against any sudden movement
on the part of the sufferer.
"Are you much hurt, sir?" asked Dan.
"You have killed your master, Dandy," replied he, faintly, as he looked
up at the redeemed chattel.
"I did not mean to kill you, sir, and I am sorry you compelled me to
fire upon you," added Dan, in respectful and sympathizing tones.
"I am wounded and in your power now; I can do nothing more, and you may
finish me as soon as you please," groaned Colonel Raybone, completely
subdued by weakness and the fear of death.
"I do not wish to kill you, Colonel Raybone, and I am willing to do all
I can for you. But if you attempt to make me a slave again, I will shoot
you at once."
"I can't harm you now if I would," said the sufferer, faintly.
"Then we will take you into the cabin out of the sun, and do what we can
for you."
"Can't you land me at Mr. Lascelles' plantation?" asked he, lifting his
eyes up with an expression so pitiful that Dan could hardly resist the
petition.
"No, sir. I dare not do that," he replied. "But I will do all I can to
save your life."
Dan then went aft, and explained to his companions the condition of
Colonel Raybone. Lily was placed at the helm, with instructions how to
steer, and Dan and Cyd, with a great deal of difficulty, removed the
wounded planter to the cabin. But he had lost so much blood that he
fainted as soon as they had placed him upon the bunk. Cyd then took his
place at the helm; and while Lily bathed the head of the patient with
lavender, Dan examined his wound. The ball had passed entirely through
the fleshy part of the thigh, about half way between the hip and the
knee. The blood flowed steadily from the two openings, but not in jets,
which would indicate the severing of an artery.
Dan was no surgeon, but he had ingenuity and common sense, and he used
these to the best advantage his limited means would permit. He tore up
one of his shirts for bandages, and Lily made lint of of his collars.
When the sufferer had recovered from his faintness he drank a glass of
brandy, which seemed to revive him. But he was still very weak, and
breathed not a word of hatred or malice.
"Hallo! Dan! Where we gwine?" shouted Cyd from the deck, who had come to
a point in the lake where he required further sailing directions.
The skipper took his map and went on deck. From the position of three
islands laid down on his chart, and which he identified as those near
him, he concluded that the Isabel had reached the outlet of the lake,
which is the Atchafalaya River. Its course gave him a fair wind, and he
headed the boat down the stream. As the sailing of the boat was now a
matter of the utmost importance, Dan was compelled to remain on deck. He
took the precaution to place all the fire-arms on board in a safe place,
where Colonel Raybone, if his condition should so far improve as to
encourage him to make an attempt to obtain possession of the boat, could
not get them, and where he and Cyd could get them.
It was sunset when the Isabel entered the great bayou; and as she dashed
on her course, the anxious skipper saw many boats, and even some larger
craft, but no one offered to molest them. Colonel Raybone remained as
quiet as a lamb. He was feverish, and in much pain, and all night long
Lily sat by his bunk, and watched over him as tenderly as though he had
been her dearest friend, instead of her most terrible enemy. She not
only watched; she prayed for him--prayed that God would forgive him,
heal his wounds, and soften his heart.
And all night long the Isabel sped on her course, and at midnight she
entered the great bay. Dan was worn out with anxiety and long watching,
and as the waters of the bay were comparatively smooth, the wind having
subsided to a gentle breeze, he gave the helm to Cyd, and slept three
hours upon the floor of the standing room, with a cushion under his
head.
At daybreak, Point au Fer light, which was marked on Dan's map, lay
directly ahead of them. The land to the westward was low and swampy, and
with frequent indentations. In one of these Dan came to anchor about
sunrise. He was much perplexed to know what he should do with Colonel
Raybone. He could not think of going to sea with him on board, and to
send him back was to invite an immediate pursuit.
The good care which had been bestowed upon the planter had very sensibly
improved his condition. After breakfast he inquired of Dan where he had
been for a year, and the whole story of the residence in the swamp was
narrated to him. In return he told the fugitives what had been done to
recover them, and added that he was on his way from New Orleans to Mr.
Lascelles' plantation when he discovered the Isabel. Colonel Raybone
said not a word about reclaiming his property, and apparently only
cherished the hope of saving himself.
"Now, Dandy, what are you going to do with me?" asked he, when he had
finished his narrative.
"I don't know, sir. After the whipping I got, I determined to run away;
and I say now I would rather die than go back," replied he.
"Didn't I use you well?" asked the colonel.
"As well as any master can use a slave."
"I was rather sorry afterwards that I whipped you; but you were treated
as well as the members of my own family; and so was Lily."
"But I was a slave, and so was she. Master Archy tormented me, and Miss
Edith tormented Lily. I could have borne it, perhaps, if I hadn't been
whipped."
"You have your revenge now," added the planter, meekly. "I am in your
power."
"I don't seek revenge, and I wouldn't harm you for all the world,"
replied Dan.
The proud spirit of the planter was subdued by pain, weakness, and the
fear of death, and he was in no condition to think of resistance. He
offered to give the fugitives free papers if they would land him at any
place where there was a surgeon, and from which he could be removed to
Redlawn; but Dan dared not run any risks. The planter wanted to know
where they were going, but the prudent skipper declined to answer this
question.
The Isabel remained at anchor for three days, under the lea of the land,
during which time Colonel Raybone was carefully nursed by Dan and Lily;
but his wound was still very painful, and the patient, fearful of
mortification, or some other unfavorable turn in his condition, declared
himself willing to do any thing rather than remain any longer in this
place.
"I might put you on board of some vessel if I dared to do so," said Dan.
"What do you fear?" demanded the sufferer.
"If you should tell the people of the vessel what we are, they would
capture us."
"Do you think I would do that, Dandy?" asked he, in reproachful tones.
"I am afraid to run any risks, sir."
"Will you let me die here? My wound may mortify. I think it is growing
worse instead of better," added he, with a groan of anguish. "I will
give you my word, Dandy, if you will put me on board of any vessel bound
to any place where I can get home, I will give you all your freedom. If
you are arrested, send to me, and you shall have free papers. You know I
always keep my word, Dandy."
It was a terrible necessity which could extort such a declaration from
the imperious planter, and Dan decided to accept the proposition. The
anchor was weighed, and the Isabel stood out of the inlet where she had
lain for three days. They cruised all day without meeting a vessel; but
on the following morning they hailed a small schooner bound up the bay.
"I will keep my promise, Dandy, to the letter," said Colonel Raybone, as
they bore him to the deck. "Here is some money, which you may want
before long;" and he handed Dan a roll of bills.
"Thank you, sir," replied he. "I hope we part friends."
"Yes, Dandy; and if you ever want a friend, come to me."
The crew of the schooner asked a great many questions, all of which
Colonel Raybone took it upon himself to answer. He was placed in the
cabin of the vessel, and Dan, bidding him good by, hastened back to the
Isabel. They parted in peace, and Lily could not restrain her tears as
the schooner bore away on her course.