my neighbor. If you've
a mind to come in quietly, I'll see you let off without any whippin."

"I have no mind to come in, either quietly or otherwise," replied Dan.

"Then the wust's your own;" and Longworth fired.

The ball whistled within a few feet of Dan's head; but, unterrified by
the peril, he raised his gun and fired.

"I'm hit!" groaned Longworth, as he sank down into the boat.

The other man in the boat with Longworth took the gun, loaded it, and
fired. At that moment Dan had stooped down to pick up his shot-pouch,
and Quin being the more prominent party in the bateau, the other man
fired at him.

"De Lo'd sabe me!" groaned Quin, as he placed both hands on his chest.

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.

CHAPTER XIX.

LILY ON THE WATCH.

The death of poor Quin filled his companions with sorrow and dismay.
There was weeping all night long on board of the Isabel. He had been a
true and faithful friend to each individual of the party, and they were
all sincerely and devotedly attached to him. With this sad bereavement
came the sense of personal peril, for those who had slain their
associate would not be con