[CHAPTER XVII.]
The following evening, an armed schooner was lying at anchor in the road stead of Buffalo, at the southern extremity of Lake Erie, and within a mile of the American shore. It was past midnight—and although the lake was calm and unbroken as the face of a mirror, a dense fog had arisen which prevented objects at the head of the vessel from being seen from the stern. Two men only were visible upon the after-deck; the one lay reclining upon an arm chest, muffled up in a dread-nought pea jacket, the other paced up and down hurriedly, and with an air of pre-occupation. At intervals he would stop and lean over the gangway, apparently endeavoring to pierce through the fog and catch a glimpse of the adjacent shore, and, on these occasions, a profound sigh would burst from his chest.
"Sambo," he at length exclaimed, addressing the man in the pea-jacket for the first time. "I shall retire to my cabin, but fail not to call me an hour before daybreak. Our friends being all landed, there can be nothing further to detain us here, we will therefore make the best of our way back to Amherstburg in the morning."
"Yes, Massa Geral," returned the negro, yawning and half raising his brawny form from his rude couch with one hand, while he rubbed his heavy eyes with the knuckles of the other.
"How is your head to-night?" inquired the officer in a kind tone.
"Berry well, Massa Geral—but berry sleepy."
"Then sleep, Sambo; but do not fail to awaken me in time: we shall weigh anchor the very first thing in the morning, provided the fog does not continue. By the bye, you superintended the landing of the baggage—was everything sent ashore?"
"All, Massa Geral, I see him all pack in he wagon, for he Bubbalo town—all, except dis here I find in Miss Mungummery cabin under he pillow."
As he spoke, the negro quitted his half recumbent position, and drew from his breast a small clasped pocket book, on a steel entablature adorning the cover of which, were the initials of the young lady just named.
"How is it Sambo, that you had not spoken of this? The pocket book contains papers that may be of importance; and yet there is now no means of forwarding it unless I delay the schooner."