"If you do, we will say no more about it just now, for there may be some one within earshot of us," replied Christy.
Nothing more was said, and the boat cautiously approached the schooner. No one appeared to be on board of her, and the fugitives found that she was loaded with cotton, even carrying a deck-load of this staple of the South, the price of which had bounded up to an enormous figure in the markets of the world. In the early morning the clouds and the fog were swept away, and the sun came out. Christy found a hiding-place on the other side of the creek, in a dense mass of bushes, where the boat was drawn out of the water.
A spot which commanded a full view of the schooner had been selected, the boat was turned upside down so as to afford a shelter, and the weary Unionists went to sleep, for they were not likely to be disturbed on this side of the creek. It was noon when they woke, and it looked as though something was going on at the vessel. About half a dozen negroes were to be seen on the deck-load of cotton; and a little later in the day, Colonel Passford and Lonley were observed talking together. But nothing was done that day, and the night came on. Christy was not satisfied with his information, and as soon as it was dark, the boat was launched, and the fugitives pulled over to the schooner.
"Who's in dat boat?" shouted a negro, showing himself at the rail of the vessel.
"I am," replied Christy, rather indefinitely.
"Be you de new mate, sar?" demanded the man.
"I am," answered Christy, at a venture.
"We done wait free days for you, an' Massa Lonley be mighty glad to see you."
"Where is Captain Lonley now?" asked the lieutenant.
"Stoppin' wid Massa colonel. He done tole me to call him if de mate come. Dis nigger gwine to do dat," added the man.