it his gaze in the direction in which he had last seen the
pursuing boats. It was a late breakfast, for it was ten in the forenoon
when it was finished. But this meal, though it seemed to increase the
vigor and resolution of the party, did not remove a particle of their
anxiety for the future.

Dan, as we have before shown, was a master of strategy; and it is good
generalship to penetrate the purposes of the enemy. Our hero was all the
time trying to do this, but, of course, without any encouragement of
success. He only felt sure that Colonel Raybone would cover the lake
with boats filled with slave-hunters, if he could find them, and that
every hour of delay increased the peril of his situation. He intended to
wait till night, and then, under cover of the darkness, run down to the
outlet of the lake, and escape to the Gulf. This purpose was encumbered
by a terrible doubt; he feared that the south-east wind would die out
when the sun went down, and that the fugitives would again be at the
mercy of the slave-hunters. The thought was so appalling that Dan, in
the middle of the afternoon, determined to run the gantlet of the boats,
and trust to Providence for success. In a few moments after this
decision was reached, the Isabel was under way, and standing, close
hauled, down the lake.

The south-east wind, having free course, and blowing fresh, had kicked
up a heavy sea, for an inland sheet of water; but this was highly
favorable for the Isabel, and very unfavorable for the flatboats in
which the pursuers chased them. As Dan had anticipated, the
slave-hunters were on the alert; and as the Isabel was standing through
a narrow channel between two islands, the two boats, which had chased
her in the morning, dashed out from under the lea of one of them.

"Take the helm, Cyd, and keep her steady as she is!" said Dan, as he
grasped the rifle.

"Possifus!" exclaimed Cyd; but he promptly obeyed without further
speech.

Only one of the boats--that which contained Colonel Raybone--was near
enough to board the Isabel as she dashed through the passage. It was
evidently the intention of the planter to spring on board as she passed
through the channel; for he stood in the bow of his boat with the
painter in his hand. One of the rowers in the other boat had "crabbed"
his oar and lost it overboard, or the colonel's plan would have
succeeded.

"Put down the helm, Cyd! Luff, luff!" shouted Dan, as he fathomed the
purpose of his mast