his freedom as achieved, and he had even made himself familiar with his
new social condition.

Dandy handed Lily into the bateau which was to serve as the Isabel's
tender, and then seated himself in the bow.

"Come, bear a hand, Cyd," said the leader, in a low but sharp tone.

"What am I to bear a hand to?" demanded Cyd.

"Jump in quick, and paddle off to the Isabel."

"Golly! Is dis chile got to row de boat? Says I, 'Cyd,' says I, 'you's a
free nigger, and you got nuffin to do but----'"

"Take your paddle quick, or I will leave you here!" interposed Dandy.

Cyd obeyed this time. His ideas of freedom were, no doubt, derived from
his master and the other white people at Redlawn, who had nothing to do
but amuse themselves and order the negroes round the place. They were
very crude ideas, and he was yet to learn that freedom did not mean
idleness. He paddled the bateau off to the sail-boat, and Lily was put
on board.

"Now, haul the Edith alongside," said the skipper, as he proceeded to
unloose the sails.

"De Edif!" exclaimed Cyd. "Wha--wha--what you gwine to do wid de Edif?"

"Haul her alongside!" replied Dandy, sharply. "If you spend the night in
talking, we shall not get off till morning."

"Hossifus!" ejaculated Cyd, whose vocabulary being rather limited, he
was under the necessity of coining a word occasionally, when he felt the
need of a strong expression. "Dis nigger tink he was free, but it's Do
dis, and Do dat. Hossifus; dis chile tink he's only got a new
massa--dat's all, for sartin."

"If you don't want to go, Cyd, you needn't. I will put you on shore, and
go without you."

"Gossifus! Dis chile like to know what you gwine to do widout Cyd."

"I shall do very well without him. Shall I put you on shore, or not?"

"Possifus! No, Dandy; I'se gwine wid you, any how."

"Then you must mind me!" added the skipper, earnestly.

"I done do dat."

"Haul the Edith alongside, then."

"Sartin, Dandy. I'se gwine to haul de Edif alongside, but dis chile like
to know what for?"

"Mind me, or I'll put you on shore!" cried Dandy, angrily.

"Mossifus! I'se gwine, Dandy," said Cyd as he stepped into the tender,
and paddled off to the Edith, which was moored a short distance above.

Presently he returned, and the painter of the race boat was made fast to
a cleat on the quarter of the Isabel. Cyd was much mystified by the
operation, for he could not see why they should take the Edith with
them. He was very