"Hah, you villains! I've got you at last!" said Colonel Raybone.
Without making any reply to this expression of rage and malice, Dan fired, but not at the head or the heart of the colonel; for he did not wish to kill him. The rifle was aimed at one of his legs, and the ball passed through the fleshy part of his thigh. Colonel Raybone, with a volley of curses, sank upon the deck of the Isabel, a stream of blood flowing from his wound. Dan dropped the rifle, and took one of the fowling pieces, ready to complete his work if the occasion should require. His face was deadly pale, his lips quivered, and his frame trembled, as though the ball had passed through him, instead of his master. He had watched and waited too long for liberty and true life to sacrifice all his hopes, when they were on the point of being realized, to a sentimental horror of shedding the blood of a slave-master.
Lily, as soon as she heard the report of the rifle, opened her cabin door, and stepped out into the standing room. The pale face and quivering lip of Dan first attracted her attention; and when he pointed to the forecastle, she saw the prostrate form of her master, and sank upon the seat, overcome with fear and horror.
"Don't be afraid, Lily," said he. "He cannot harm us now."
"Have you killed him?" gasped she.
"No; I did not intend to kill him. I would not have fired at him if I could have helped it. I only hit him in the leg."
"But he will die."
"He may; I cannot help it. We should have been slaves again in a moment more if I had not fired."
"This is horrible!" moaned Lily.
"But it is better than slavery," replied Dan, firmly, though he was scarcely less agitated than his gentle companion. "Mind your helm, Cyd, and go to windward of that little island ahead," he continued; for the helmsman's ideas had been considerably shaken up by the stirring events which had just transpired.