"Did he say that, little master; did he?"
"There, you are shaking again! Sit down, Jube. Don't be afraid; I won't ask any thing. There, lean your head against the mast; I will watch for them while you rest."
"No, don't watch. They won't come yet—not yet."
"Not before night, perhaps."
Jube closed his eyes heavily, and groaned.
It was mournful—the sight of that strange child, sitting upon Jube's knee and watching the shore with a trusting, earnest hope that his father and mother would seek him over the water where she had fallen asleep and floated away, but would be sure to come back when papa was found. The child said this a hundred times, as he patted the hard palm of the slave with his little hand, while Jube answered bravely, each time, "Oh, yes, Master Paul, sometime they shall see us again. That's what the captain was saying to me just now. I hope it's true, little master; for your sake I hope he knows."
When he had done speaking, Jube would turn his head quite away, and shake the tears from his eyes, while the boy fell to his patient watch again.
CHAPTER V.
THE SEARCH FOR GOLD.
Paul saw that questions wounded his black friend, and fell into silence, thinking of his parents with mournful yearning, but not mentioning them again.