The Maroon Part 41

"What on earth can the Maroon want with me?" muttered Mr Vaughan, half to himself. "He hasn't brought in any runaways, has he?"

"No," answered the overseer. "Thanks to your wors.h.i.+p's good management, we haven't any of late--not since that old schemer Chakra was put out of the way."

"Thanks to _your_ good management, Mr Trusty," said the planter, returning his overseer's compliment, not without a show of nervous uneasiness, which the reference to Chakra had called forth. "Then it's nothing of that kind, you think?" he hastily added, as if desirous of changing the theme.

"No, your wors.h.i.+p. It cannot be: there's not a runaway upon my list;"

replied Trusty, with an air of triumph.

"Gad! I'm glad to hear it," said the Custos, rubbing his hands together as an expression of his contentment. "Well; I suppose the young fellow has come to consult me in my magisterial capacity. In some sc.r.a.pe, no doubt? These Maroons are always getting themselves into trouble with our planters. I wonder who he's come to complain about?"

"Well, that much I think I can tell you," rejoined the overseer, evidently knowing more of the Maroon's errand than he had yet admitted-- for Mr Trusty was a true disciple of the secretive school. "If I should be allowed to make a guess, your wors.h.i.+p, I should say it is something relating to our neighbour of the Happy Valley."

"What! the Jew?"

"Jacob Jessuron, Esquire."

"You think so, Trusty?" inquired Mr Vaughan, with an earnest and gratified look. "Has the young fellow said anything?"

"No," answered the overseer; "it's not anything _he_ has said. I heard something a day or two ago about a runaway the Maroons have got among them--a slave belonging to the Jew. It appears they don't want to give him up."

"Whom did you hear it from?"

"Why, not exactly from any one, your wors.h.i.+p. I should rather say I _overheard_ it, quite by accident. One of the Trelawney Maroons--a big fellow that comes down here occasionally after Black Bet--was telling her something. I was pa.s.sing Bet's cabin, and heard him talking about this runaway."

"Don't want to give him up! And for what reason do they refuse?"

"Can't tell, your wors.h.i.+p. I could only make out part of the conversation."

"So you think it's about that the young fellow has come?"

"I think it likely, your wors.h.i.+p. He's close, however, and I couldn't get a word out of him about his business. He says he must see you."

"All right, then! You can show him in here. And hark ye, Mr Trusty!

See Black Bet, and get what you can out of her. This is an interesting matter. A Maroon refusing to deliver up a runaway! There must be something in it. Perhaps the mulatto will tell me all about it; but whether he does or not, you may see Bet. You can promise her a new gown, or whatever you like. Show the young fellow up at once. I am ready to receive him."

Mr Trusty bowed, and walked off in the direction of the works, where the Maroon had remained in waiting; while the Custos, composing himself into an official att.i.tude, awaited the approach of his visitor.

"I'd give a good round sum," soliloquised he, "to learn that the old rascal has got into some sc.r.a.pe with these Maroon fellows. I shouldn't wonder," he added, in gleeful antic.i.p.ation, "I shouldn't wonder! I know they don't much like him--less since he's taken the Spaniards into his pay--and I suspect he's been engaged in some underhand transactions of late. He's been growing grander every day, and n.o.body knows where all the money comes from. Maybe Master Maroon has a tale to tell; and, if it's against Jessuron, I'll take care he has an opportunity of telling it. Ah, here he comes! Egad, a fine-looking fellow! So, so! This is the young man that my daughter jokes Yola about! Well, I don't wonder the Foolah should have taken a fancy to him; but I must see that he doesn't make a fool of her. These Maroons are dangerous dogs among the women of the plantations; and Yola, whether a princess or not in her own country-princess, ha! ha! Well, at all events the wench is no common n.i.g.g.e.r; and it won't do for Master Maroon to be humbugging her. I shall lecture him about it, now that I've got him here."

By this time the Maroon captain--equipped just as we have seen him in the forest--had arrived in front of the kiosk; and, making a deferential bow, though without taking off his hat--which, being the _toqued kerchief_, could not conveniently be removed--stood waiting for the Custos to address him.

The planter remained for a considerable time without vouchsafing further speech than the mechanical salutation, "Good morning."

There was something in the physiognomy of his visitor that had evidently made an unpleasant impression upon him; and the gaze, with which he regarded the latter, was one which bespoke some feeling different from that of mere curiosity or admiration.

Whatever the feeling was, he seemed desirous of suppressing it; and, making an effort to that effect, appeared to succeed: for the shadow, that for an instant had shown itself on his countenance, cleared away; and, with a magisterial but courteous smile, he commenced the conversation.

Volume Two, Chapter XI.

MAGISTRATE AND MAROON.

"Well, young man," continued the Custos, in an affable tone, "you, I believe, are one of the Maroons of Trelawney?"

"Yes, wors.h.i.+p," bluntly rejoined Cubina. "The captain of a town, are you not?"

"Only a few families, wors.h.i.+p. Ours is a small settlement."

"And your name is--?"

"Cubina."

"Ah! I've heard the name," said the Custos. "I think," added he, with a significant smile, "we have a young girl here on the plantation who knows you?"

Cubina blushed, as he stammered out an affirmative.

"Oh! that's all right," said the planter, encouragingly. "So long as there's no harm meant, there's no harm done. Mr Trusty tells me you have business with me. Is it about that?"

"About what, your wors.h.i.+p?" inquired the Maroon, a little taken by surprise at the question so unexpectedly put to him. "About your sweetheart!"

"My sweetheart, wors.h.i.+p?"

"Ay, Yola. Is she not your sweetheart?"

"Well, Mr Vaughan," rejoined the Maroon, "I'm not going to deny that something has pa.s.sed between me and the young girl; but it wasn't exactly about her I've come to see you, though now, bein' here, I might as well talk about that matter, too, if it so please your wors.h.i.+p."

"Very good, Captain Cubina. I'm ready to hear what you have to say. Go on!"

"Well, then, your wors.h.i.+p, the truth is, I want to buy Yola."

"What? Buy your own sweetheart?"

"Just so, wors.h.i.+p. Of course, as soon as she would be mine, I'd set her free."

"That is, you would change the bonds she now wears for the bonds of matrimony?--ha! ha! ha! Is that it, Captain Cubina?" and the Custos laughed at the conceit he had so neatly expressed.

"Something of that sort, your wors.h.i.+p," replied the Maroon, slightly partic.i.p.ating in the worthy magistrate's mirth.

"And do you think Yola desires to become Mrs Cubina?"

"If I didn't think so, your wors.h.i.+p, I wouldn't propose to buy her. It would be nothing to me to own the girl, if she wasn't agreeable."

"She _is_ agreeable, then?"

"Well, wors.h.i.+p, I think so. Not that she don't like the young mistress that owns her at present; but, you see, your wors.h.i.+p--but--"

"But there's somebody she likes better than her mistress; and that's yourself, Master Cubina?"

"Well, you see, wors.h.i.+p, that's a different sort of liking, and--"