Poor Lily was obliged to remain in the cabin, and she was very much alarmed at the roaring of the waves and the terrible pitching of the schooner; but Dan often assured her that there was no danger; that the Isabel was behaving splendidly. During that long, tempestuous night, there was no sleep for the fugitives. Dan did not leave the helm, and Cyd stood by to obey the orders of the skipper. At midnight the gale began to moderate, but the sea still ran high.
The sun rose bright and clear on the following morning. The wind had subsided to a gentle breeze, and the Isabel moved slowly along over the rolling waves. Cyd and Lily went to sleep after breakfast, and Dan still maintained his position at the helm, which he had not left for fourteen hours. He was nearly exhausted; but so was Cyd, and he was afraid the latter would drop asleep if he left the boat in his care.
While he sat by the tiller, dreaming of the future, and struggling to keep awake, he discovered a sail far to the southward of him. The sight roused him from his lethargy, for he had not seen any thing that looked like a vessel since the day he parted with Colonel Raybone. He was wide awake; and laying his course so as to intercept the vessel, he waited patiently till the winds wafted her within hailing distance.
It was two hours before he could clearly make her out, for the wind was very light. She was a bark, and Dan could only hope that she was not bound to any port in the slave states. He had a very good knowledge of geography, and after calculating the position of the Isabel, he concluded that the bark could not have come from any southern city.
"Sail ho!" shouted he, when he was within half a mile of the bark.
"What's the matter?" called Lily, roused from her slumbers by the shout.
"Come on deck. We are close by a vessel."
"Gossifus!" shouted Cyd, as he rushed out of the cabin, and discovered the bark. "Wha—wha—what vessel's dat?"
"I don't know," answered Dan; "but we shall soon know all about her."
"What a monster she is!" added Lily.