Dan was ready to fire again; but, to his astonishment, he saw the man who had shot his companion seize the oars and pull away from the spot as fast as he could.
It was evident that the fate of his companion had appalled him; and seeing Dan nearly ready to discharge his gun again, he hastened to widen the distance between them. He rowed with the desperation of a doomed man. As the boat receded, Longworth raised himself up, as if to assure the fugitives that he was not dead.
Dan pointed the gun at the retreating boat for some time, and then fired, but not with the intention of hitting his savage foes. They were slave-drivers, but he did not wish to kill them.
The boat shortly disappeared, and Dan turned his attention to his wounded companion. The ball had passed through his lungs, and had penetrated a vital organ. Deeply affected by the event, he did what he could to stanch the blood; but poor Quin was past the aid of any surgery, and breathed his last a few minutes later.
Fearful that other pursuers might soon appear, Dan worked the boat up the bayou as rapidly as he could alone; but it was late at night when he reached the camp. Then he wept; then the tears of Lily mingled with his own over the corpse of the honest and faithful Quin, whose spirit had soared aloft, where the black man is as free as his white oppressor.