The breeze had come, and plenty of it; but for the course the skipper wished to lay, it was dead ahead; yet it mattered little where it carried them, if it only enabled them to escape from the terrible man who was the impersonation of slavery to them. As the wind freshened, the lake was agitated, and the Isabel dashed on as though she understood the issues which depended upon her speed. In half an hour the pursuing boats could not be seen; and no doubt they had abandoned the chase in despair.
It was useless to seek a place for concealment, for the white sails of the Isabel were doubtless watched by scores of eager eyes; so Dan ran up under the lee of one of the small islands that dot the lake, and came to anchor there. He did not care to run up the lake any farther than was necessary, and he did not think it prudent to beat down the lake in the face of his pursuers. No more anxious skipper than he of the Isabel ever paced a deck. Colonel Raybone was as energetic as he was remorseless, and would leave no means untried to capture the fugitives. Dan was at first afraid that he would charter the steamer, and pursue them in her; but this fear was removed when he saw the Terre Bonne steaming on her way up the lake.
The fugitives breakfasted on cold ham and hard bread while the boat remained at anchor; but not for a single instant did the watchful skipper intermit his gaze in the direction in which he had last seen the pursuing boats. It was a late breakfast, for it was ten in the forenoon when it was finished. But this meal, though it seemed to increase the vigor and resolution of the party, did not remove a particle of their anxiety for the future.
Dan, as we have before shown, was a master of strategy; and it is good generalship to penetrate the purposes of the enemy. Our hero was all the time trying to do this, but, of course, without any encouragement of success. He only felt sure that Colonel Raybone would cover the lake with boats filled with slave-hunters, if he could find them, and that every hour of delay increased the peril of his situation. He intended to wait till night, and then, under cover of the darkness, run down to the outlet of the lake, and escape to the Gulf. This purpose was encumbered by a terrible doubt; he feared that the south-east wind would die out when the sun went down, and that the fugitives would again be at the mercy of the slave-hunters. The thought was so appalling that Dan, in the middle of the afternoon, determined to run the gantlet of the boats, and trust to Providence for success. In a few moments after this decision was reached, the Isabel was under way, and standing, close hauled, down the lake.
The south-east wind, having free course, and blowing fresh, had kicked up a heavy sea, for an inland sheet of water; but this was highly favorable for the Isabel, and very unfavorable for the flatboats in which the pursuers chased them. As Dan had anticipated, the slave-hunters were on the alert; and as the Isabel was standing through a narrow channel between two islands, the two boats, which had chased her in the morning, dashed out from under the lea of one of them.
"Take the helm, Cyd, and keep her steady as she is!" said Dan, as he grasped the rifle.
"Possifus!" exclaimed Cyd; but he promptly obeyed without further speech.
Only one of the boats—that which contained Colonel Raybone—was near enough to board the Isabel as she dashed through the passage. It was evidently the intention of the planter to spring on board as she passed through the channel; for he stood in the bow of his boat with the painter in his hand. One of the rowers in the other boat had "crabbed" his oar and lost it overboard, or the colonel's plan would have succeeded.
"Put down the helm, Cyd! Luff, luff!" shouted Dan, as he fathomed the purpose of his master.
"Luff um 'tis!" replied the helmsman.