re.

The night was very dark, and there were indications of a storm. It
required all the skill of the bold leader of the expedition to steer the
boat in the thick gloom of the night. The navigation was difficult and
dangerous. The bayou was filled with snags and stumps, and to strike one
of them was to dash the boat in pieces, and wreck all the hopes which
hung upon the success of the enterprise. But Dandy was thoroughly
acquainted with all the difficulties in his course, and was so familiar
with the waters of the bayou, that he was as much at home upon them by
night as by day.

"Hoist the foresail, Cyd," said the skipper.

"Mossifus! Dis chile tinks de boat's gwine fas enough," answered Cyd,
"but I'se gwine to do jus what you say, Massa Dandy."

"Do it then."

Cyd did do it then; but it was evident to the commander of the Isabel
that the "crew" of his vessel was in a lamentable state of
insubordination. All his orders were questioned, and the boat was liable
to go to the bottom in an emergency, because his commands were not
promptly obeyed. He was not a little astonished at Cyd's conduct, for in
the boat of Master Archy he was in the habit of obeying all orders like
a machine, never presuming to ask a question, or suggest a doubt.

The foresail was set, and the Isabel dashed on with increased speed.
There was no more "working ship" to be done, and Cyd again took his
place on the cushioned seats in the standing-room, a luxury, by the way,
in which he had never before attempted to indulge himself; but when it
is considered that he had just emerged from slavery to freedom, his want
of respect for the dignity of the "quarter deck" will be fully excused.

"Go forward, Cyd, and keep a sharp lookout ahead," said Dandy, as soon
as the "crew" was comfortably seated on the cushion.

"Gossifus! I suppose I'se a nigger still," said he. "Dis chile tinks
he's jes as good's any body now."

"You are, Cyd."

"Den I mus squat on de hard deck, and you sets on de cushions."

"Take one of the cushions with you, if you wish to; but go forward and
keep a sharp lookout."

"I'se gwine."

"Go, then."

"Dis nigger don't zackly like dis kind ob freedom," growled Cyd, as he
moved forward.

The wind was about south-west, which was fair for the course the Isabel
was then steering, and in three quarters of an hour she made Green
Point. Dandy could not but recall the events which had occurred there
three weeks before, for they had