Chloe obeyed, silently following her young mistress to the other side of the deck, but ever and anon turning her head to look back with wet eyes at the old wrinkled black face and white beard that to her were so dear, so charming. His eyes were following her with a look of longing, yearning affection, and involuntarily he stretched out his arms towards her.
"Off to your work, sir," ordered the captain, "and let's have no more of this nonsense."
Old Joe moved away with a patient sigh.
"The woman is your property, I presume, sir?" the captain remarked in a respectful tone, addressing Mr. Dinsmore.
"Yes, my daughter's, which amounts to the same thing," that gentleman replied in a tone of indifference; then changing the subject, made some inquiries about the speed and safety of the boat, the length of her trips, etc.
The captain answered pleasantly, showing pride in his vessel. Then they spoke of other things: the country, the crops, the weather.
"Sit down, mammy," said Elsie pityingly, as they reached the settee where she and her father had been sitting; "you are trembling so you can scarcely stand."
"O darlin', dat's true 'nuff, I'se mos' ready to drop," she said tremulously, coming down heavily upon a trunk that stood close at hand. "Oh, de good Lord hab bring me face to face wid my ole Uncle Joe; oh, I neber 'spected to see him no more in dis wicked world. But dey'll take 'im off again an' dis ole heart'll break," she added, with a bursting sob.
"No, no, mammy, you shall have him, if money can accomplish it."
"You buy 'im, darlin'? Oh, your ole mammy can neber t'ank you 'nuff!" and a low, happy laugh mingled with the choking sobs. "But dey'll ask heaps ob money."