"
"It's Quorum!" shouted Worth. "In the _Cupid_, too! Of all things,
that is the very last I should ever have expected to see!"
Sure enough, it was the faithful negro progressing slowly and with such
awkwardness that the anxious spectators expected to see him upset at
each moment. Nevertheless, he finally succeeded in reaching the raft;
and as they hauled him aboard he gasped, with thankfulness,
"Dat de seckon time dish yer nigger ebber bin in one ob dem ar cooners,
an' him hope he be good an' daid befo' him ebber sperimentin' wif um
agen!"
Quorum had come from the great house, where the _Cupid_ was the sole
craft to be had. It was only after hours of persuasion and
semi-starvation that he had been induced by the other refugees to make
the trip to the raft, which they had discovered soon after daylight.
He described a pitiful state of affairs as existing among the hungry
throng he had just left, and declared that another day without food
would witness great suffering in the crowded house.
Even as he related his story, those gathered about him were startled by
the shrill note of a steam-whistle coming from the direction of the
river. Sumner had found relief, and was bringing it to them.
During the hours that passed so slowly on the raft, the brave little
_Psyche_ had cruised here and there over the broad Mississippi sea, now
hailing some boat that refused to stop, and then chasing another that
it failed to overtake.
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