The Maroon Part 64

With this confidence, then, he resolved to postpone his visit to Mount Welcome until some hour after daybreak; and, in the meantime, to carry out the preliminaries of a programme, referring to a very different affair, and which had been traced out the day before.

The first scene in this programme was to be a meeting with Herbert Vaughan. It had been appointed to take place between them on the following morning; and on the same spot where the two young men had first encountered one another--in the glade, under the great _ceiba_.

The interview was of Herbert's own seeking, for, although neither had seen the other since the day on which the runaway had been rescued, some items of intelligence had pa.s.sed between them--Quaco acting as the medium of their correspondence.

Herbert had an object in seeking the interview. He desired a conference with Cubina, in hopes of obtaining from him an explanation of more than one circ.u.mstance that had lately arisen to puzzle and perplex him.

His patron's suspicious story about the red runaway was one of these circ.u.mstances. Herbert had heard from Quaco that the slave was still staying with the Maroons in their mountain town; and had been adopted into their little community--in fact, had himself become a Maroon.

This did not correspond with the account given by Jessuron. Of course, Quaco could not state the reasons. The secrecy enjoined by the Custos kept Cubina's tongue tied upon that theme; and his own men knew nothing of the design which their captain had conceived against the Jew.

This was not the only matter which mystified the young Englishman, and which he was in hopes of having cleared up by Cubina. His own position at the penn--of late developing itself in a manner to surprise and startle him--also needed elucidation. There was no one near of whom he could ask a question in regard to it, and never in his life did he stand more in need of a confidant.

In this dilemma he had thought of his old acquaintance, the Maroon captain. The intelligent mulatto appeared to be the very man. Herbert remembered the promise made at parting, his own conditional acceptance of it, which now appeared prophetic; since the contingency then expressed had come to pa.s.s.

He had need to avail himself of the friendly proffer; and for that purpose had he made the appointment under the _ceiba_.

Equally desirous was the Maroon to meet with the young Englishman. He had preserved a grateful recollection of his generous interference in what appeared a very unequal combat; and, so far from having lost sight of his n.o.ble ally, he had been keeping him in mind--after a fas.h.i.+on that was calculated to show the deep grat.i.tude with which Herbert's conduct had inspired him.

He longed for an opportunity of giving renewed expression to this grat.i.tude; but he had other reasons for wis.h.i.+ng to see the young Englishman just then; and the meeting with. Yola on that same night had an object some what different from the mere repet.i.tion of love vows-- already p.r.o.nounced over and over again, upon a score of distinct occasions.

Now that the night had nearly pa.s.sed, and that the morning was nigh, the Maroon, instead of returning to his mountain home, decided on going back to the glen, and spending the few hours of interval under the shadow of the _ceiba_.

Indeed, the time would not allow of his returning home. The sun would be up in three or four hours. A little after sunrise was the appointed time for the meeting with Herbert Vaughan. Before that hour should arrive, he could scarce reach his own "town" and get back again. The thing, therefore, was not to be thought of.

To sleep under a tree, or _on_ one, was no new thing for Cubina. It would never occur to him to consider such a couch as inconvenient. In his hog-hunting excursions--often continuing for days and even weeks--he was accustomed to repose upon the cold ground--upon the swirl of withered leaves--upon the naked rock--anywhere. Not much did it matter to a Maroon to be sheltered by a roof--not much, whether a tree shadowed his slumbers, or whether on his gra.s.sy couch she saw s.h.i.+ning over him the starry canopy of the sky. These were but the circ.u.mstances of his every-day life.

Having come to the conclusion that his best plan would be to pa.s.s the remaining hours of the night under the _ceiba_, he made no further delay by the Duppy's Hole; but turning into the path that led down the slope he proceeded back towards the glade.

He moved down the mountain road, slowly, and with some degree of circ.u.mspection. He went slowly, because there was no need for haste.

It would be several hours before the young Englishman should be abroad.

As already stated, a little after sunrise was the time agreed upon, through the messenger Quaco. There was no particular reason for Cubina's being in a hurry to get to the glade--unless he wished to have more time for his nap under the tree.

For sleep, however, he had but little relish just then. Wild thoughts, consequent on the strange disclosures he had listened to, were pa.s.sing through his mind; and these were sufficient to deprive him even of the power of sleep.

He moved onward with circ.u.mspection from a different motive. He knew that Jessuron, in returning to his penn, must have taken the same path.

Should the latter be loitering--since he had only started but a few minutes before--Cubina might overtake him; and he had no wish to see any more of the Jew for that night--or, at all events, to be himself seen by the latter. To avoid all chance of an encounter, he stopped at intervals, and reconnoitred the wood ahead of him.

He arrived in the glade without seeing either Jew, Christian, or living being of any kind. The penn-keeper had pa.s.sed through a good while before. Cubina could tell this by an observation which he made on coming out into the open ground. A mock-bird, perched on a low tree that stood directly by the path, was singing with all its might. The Maroon had heard its melody long before entering the glade. Had any one pa.s.sed recently, the bird would have forsaken its perch--as it did on the approach of Cubina himself.

On reaching the rendezvous, his first concern was to kindle a fire.

Sleep in a wet s.h.i.+rt was not to be thought of; and every st.i.tch upon his body had been soaked in swimming the lagoon. Otherwise, it would not have mattered about a fire. He had nothing to cook upon it; nor was he hungry--having already eaten his supper.

Kindled by a woodman's skill, a fire soon blazed up; and the hunter stood erect beside it, turning himself at intervals to dry his garments, still dripping with water.

He was soon smoking all over, like freshly-slaked lime; and, in order to pa.s.s the time more pleasantly, he commenced smoking in another sense-- the _nicotian_--his pipe and tobacco-pouch affording him an opportunity for this indulgence.

Possibly the nicotine may have stimulated his reflective powers: for he had not taken more than a dozen puffs at his pipe, when a sudden and somewhat uneasy movement seemed to say that some new reflection had occurred to him. Simultaneous with the movement, a muttered soliloquy escaped from his lips.

"_Crambo_!" exclaimed he, giving utterance to his favourite s.h.i.+bboleth; "say he should come an hour after sunrise--at least another we should be in getting to Mount Welcome. _Por Dios_! it may be too late then! Who knows what time the Custos may fancy to set out?" he added, after a pause; "I did not think of that. How stupid of me not to have asked Yola!

"_Crambo_!" he again exclaimed, after another interval pa.s.sed in silent reflection. "It won't do to leave things to chance, where a man's life is in danger. Who knows what scheme these John Crows have contrived? I couldn't hear the whole of their palaver. If Master Vaughan was only here, we might go to Mount Welcome at once. Whatever quarrel he may have with the uncle, he won't wish to let him be murdered--no likelihood of that. Besides, the young fellow's interference in this matter, if I mistake not, would be likely to make all right between them--I'd like that, both for his sake and hers--ah! hers especially, after what Yola's told me. _Santa Virgen_! wouldn't that be a disappointment to the old dog of a Jew! Never mind! I'll put a spark in his powder before he's many days older! The young Englishman must know all. I'll tell him all; and after that, if he consents to become the son-in-law of Jacob Jessuron, he would deserve a dog's--. Bah! it cannot be! I won't believe it till he tells me so himself; and then--.

"_Por Dios_!" exclaimed he, suddenly interrupting the above train of reflections and pa.s.sing to another. "It won't do for me to stay here till he comes. Two hours after sunrise, and the Custos might be cold.

I'll go down to the Jew's penn at once, and hang about till I see young Vaughan. He'll be stirring about daybreak, and that'll save an hour, anyhow. A word with him, and we can soon cross to Mount Welcome."

In obedience to the thought, and without staying to complete the drying of his habiliments, the Maroon stepped out from the glade; and turning into the track--little used--that led towards the Happy Valley, proceeded in that direction.

Volume Two, Chapter x.x.xIV.

A DARK COMPACT.

On closing so abruptly the stormy dialogue with his daughter, Jessuron proceeded to his own sleeping apartment--like the others, opening upon the verandah.

Before entering the room, he glanced along the gallery, towards the suspended hammock.

In that hammock slept Herbert Vaughan. His long sea-voyage had accustomed him to the use of a swing couch--even to a liking for it; and as the night was warm, he had preferred the hammock to his bed in the contiguous chamber.

Jessuron had a fear that the angry conversation might have been overheard by the occupant of the hammock; for, in the excitement of temper, neither he nor Judith had observed the precaution of speaking low.

The hammock hung motionless, oscillating scarce an inch; and this only under the influence of the night breeze that blew gently along the verandah. Its occupant appeared to be in the middle of a profound slumber.

Satisfied of this, the Jew returned to his own chamber. There was no light, and on entering, he sat down in the darkness. The moon s.h.i.+ning in through the window gave him light enough to discover a chair; and into that he had flung himself, instead of seeking his couch.

For a time he displayed no intention either of undressing or betaking himself to bed; but remained in the high-backed chair in which he had seated himself, buried in some reflection, silent as profound. We are permitted to know his thoughts.

"S'help me, she'll marry him!" was that which came uppermost. "She will, s'help me!" continued he, repeating the reflection in an altered form, "shpite of all I can shay or do to prevent her! She ish a very deffil when raished--and she'll have her own way, she will. Ach! what ish to be done?--what ish to be done?"

Here a pause occurred in the reflections, while the Jew, with puzzled brain, was groping for an answer to his mental interrogatory.

"It ish of no ushe!" he continued, after a time, the expression on his face showing that he had not yet received a definite reply. "It'sh no ushe to opposhe her. She'd run away with thish young man to a certainty!"

"I might lock her up, but that ish no good. She'd contrive to escape some time. I couldn't alwaysh keep her under lock and key? No--no, it ish impos.h.i.+ble!

"And if she marriesh him without the monish--without the great shugar eshtate! Blesh me! that ish ruin!

"It musht not be. If she marriesh him, she musht marry Mount Welcome.

She musht! she musht!

"But how ish it to be? How ish he to be made the heir?"

Again the Jew appeared to puzzle his brains for an answer to this last interrogatory.

"Ha!" he exclaimed aloud, at the same time starting from his chair, as if the solution had discovered itself; "I hash it! I hash it!--the Spaniards! I hash it!

"Yesh," he continued, striking the ferrule of his umbrella against the floor, "theesh are the very fellows for the shob--worth a shcore of Shakra's shpells, and hish bottles to boot! There ish no fear that their medis.h.i.+n will fail. S'help me, no! Now, ash I think of it,"

continued he, "that ish the plan--the very besht. There ish no other safe and sure, like that ish. Ha! Cushtos! you shan't eshcape yet.

Ha! Shoodith, mine girl, you ish welcome to your way; you shall have the young man after all!"