The Maroon Part 84

So saying, and turning on his heel, without "good night," or any other parting salutation, the Jew strode abstractedly off, leaving Chakra where he stood.

Volume Three, Chapter XXVI.

A FATAL SNEEZE.

"Whugh!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the Coromantee, as soon as his confederate was out of hearing; "dar's someting heavy on de mind ob dat ere ole Jew-- someting wuss dan de death ob de Cussus Va'gh'n. Wonder now wha' em be all 'bout? 'Bout dis yar book-keeper a knows it am. But wha' 'bout him? A'll find out 'fore a'm many hour older. Daat a'll do. Gollies!

A muss go an' git some sleep too. A'm jess like de Jew ma.s.seff--han't had ne'er a wink dis night, nor de night afore neider; nor doan expeck get de half ob a wink morrer night! Dat will be night ob all odder!

Morrer night, if all ting go well, Chakra he no sleep him 'lone--he sleep no more by hisseff--he hab for him bedfellow de beauty ob all de Island ob Jamaica. He sleep wi' de Lilly--."

Ere the full name of the victim threatened with this horrid fate had pa.s.sed from his lips, the menace of the myal-man was interrupted.

The interruption was caused by a sound proceeding from the little clump of bushes close to where Chakra stood.

It sounded exactly as if some one had sneezed--for it was that in reality. Cynthia had sneezed.

She had not done so intentionally--far from it. After what she had heard, it was not likely she would have uttered any sound to proclaim her presence.

At that instant she would have given all she possessed in the world--all she ever hoped to possess, even the love of Cubina--to have been miles from the spot, within the safe kitchen of Mount Welcome--anywhere but where she then was.

Long before the conversation between the Jew and Chakra had come to a close, she had made up her mind never to see the myal-man again--never willingly. Now an encounter appeared inevitable: he must have heard the sneeze!

The wretched woman reasoned aright--he had heard it.

A fierce "whugh!" was the e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n it called forth in response; and then the myal-man, turning suddenly in the direction whence it appeared to have proceeded, stood for a short time silent, and listening.

"By golly!" said he, speaking aloud; "dat 'ere soun' berry like a 'neeze! Some ob dem 'ere trees ha' been a-takin' snuff. A'd jess like know wha' sort ob varmint made dat obstropolus noise. It wan't a bush-- dat's sartin. Nor yet wa' it a bird. What den? It wan't 't all onlike de 'neeze ob a n.i.g.g.a wench! But what wud a wench be a-doin' in tha?

Da's what puzzles me. Lookee hya!" added he, raising his voice, and addressing himself to whoever or whatever might have produced the noise; "les's hear dat ag'in, whosomebber you be! Take anodder pince ob de snuff--louder dis time, so a can tell whedder you am a man or whedder you be femmynine."

He waited for a while, to see if his speech would elicit a response; but none came. Within the copse all remained silent, as if no living thing was sheltered under its sombre shadows.

"You wan't 'neeze agin," continued he, seeing there was no reply; "den, by golly, a make you, ef you am what a 'speck you is--someb'dy hid in dar to lissen. No snake can't a 'neeze dat way, no' yet a lizzart. You muss be eyder man, woman, or chile; an' ef you be, an' hab heerd wha's been say, by de great Accompong! you life no be worth--Ha! ha!"

As he entered upon this last paragraph of his apostrophe he had commenced moving towards the copse, which was only six paces from his starting-point. Before the speech was completed he had pa.s.sed in among the bushes; and, bending them over with his long, ape-like arms, was scrutinising the ground underneath.

The exclamation was called forth by his perceiving the form of a woman in a crouching att.i.tude within the shadow.

In another instant he had seized the woman by the shoulder, and with a quick wrench jerked her into an erect position.

"Cynthy!" he exclaimed, as the light fell upon the countenance of the mulatta.

"Yes, Chakra!" cried the woman, screaming ere she spoke; "it's me, it's me!"

"Whugh! Wha' you do hya? Youb been lissenin'. Wha' fo' you lissen?"

"Oh, Chakra! I did not intend it. I came here--"

"How long you been hya? Tell dat quick!"

"Oh, Chakra--I came--"

"You hya 'fore we came in' de glade. Needn't axe dat. You no kud git hya atterwad. You heer all been said? You muss hab heer it."

"Oh, Chakra, I couldn't help it. I would have gone--"

"Den you nebba hear nodder word more. Won't do let you go now. You come hya; you stay hya. You nebba go out ob dis 'pot. Whugh!"

And giving to the monosyllable an aspirate of fierceness, that caused it to sound more like the utterance of a wild beast than a human being, the monster threw out his long dark arms, and rushed towards his intended victim.

In another instant his long muscular fingers were clutched round the throat of the mulatta, clamping it with the tightness and tenacity of an iron garotte.

The wretched creature could make no resistance against such a formidable and ferocious antagonist. She tried to speak; she could not even scream.

"Chak-r-a, de-ar Chak-r-r-a," came forth in a prolonged thoracic utterance, and this was the last articulation of her life.

After that there was a gurgling in her throat--the death-rattle, as the fingers relaxed their long-continued clutch--and the body, with a sudden sound, fell back among the bushes.

"You lie da!" said the murderer, on seeing that his horrid work was complete. "Dar you tell no tale. Now for de Duppy Hole; an' a good long sleep to 'fresh me fo' de work of de morrer night. Whugh!"

And turning away from the image of death he had just finished fas.h.i.+oning, the fearful Coromantee pulled the skirts of his skin mantle around him, and strode out of the glade, with as much composure as if meditating upon some abstruse chapter in the ethics of Obi.

Volume Three, Chapter XXVII.

CHAKRA Tr.i.m.m.i.n.g HIS LAMP.

Day was dawning when the tiger Chakra returned to his lair in the Duppy's Hole. With him night was day, and the dawn of the morn the twilight of evening.

He was hungry: having eaten only a morsel of food since starting out on his awful errand, just twenty-four hours ago.

The remains of a pepper-pot, still unemptied from the iron skillet in which it had been cooked, stood in a corner of the hut.

To warm it up would require time, and the kindling of a fire. He was too much fatigued to be fastidious; and, drawing the skillet from its corner, he scooped up the stew, and ate it cold.

Finally, before retiring to rest, he introduced into his stomach something calculated to warm the cold pepper-pot--the "heel-tap" of a bottle of rum that remained over from the preceding night; and then, flinging himself upon the bamboo bedstead, so heavily that the frail reeds "scrunched" under his weight, he sank into a profound slumber.

He lay upon his hunched back, his face turned upward. A protuberance on the trunk of the tree, of larger dimensions than that upon his own person, served him for a bolster--a few handfuls of the silk cotton laid loosely upon it const.i.tuting his pillow.

With his long arms extended loosely by his side--one of them hanging over until the murderous fingers rested upon the floor--and his large mouth, widely agape, displaying a double serrature of pointed, s.h.i.+ning teeth, he looked more like some slumbering ogre than a human being.

His sleep could not be sweet. It was far from being silent. From his broad, compressed nostrils came a sonorous snoring, causing the cartilage to heave outward, accompanied by a gurgling emission through his throat that resembled the breathing of a hippopotamus.

Thus slumbered Chakra throughout the livelong day, dreaming of many crimes committed, or, perhaps, only of that--the sweetest crime of all-- which was yet in abeyance.

It was near night when he awoke. The sun had gone down--at least, he was no longer visible from the bottom of the Duppy's Hole--though some red rays, tinting the tops of the trees upon the summit of the cliff, told that the orb of day was still above the horizon.

Extended on his couch, Chakra saw not this. His hut was dark, the door being shut close; but through the interstices of the bamboos he could see to some distance outside, and perceived that twilight was fast deepening among the trees. The cry of the bittern, coming up from the lagoon, the shriek of the _potoo_, heard through the sough of the cataract, and the hoot of the great-eared owl--all three true voices of the night--reaching his ears, admonished him that his hour of action had arrived.

Springing from his couch, and giving utterance to his favourite e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n, he set about preparing himself for the adventure of the night.