Hunting the Skipper Part 73

"I hope so, Tom; but all this time we've not been thinking about our prisoner that we were set to watch."

"Yes, sir, and that's bad; but just you cheer up, sir, and all will come right yet."

"But the prisoner, Tom--the prisoner," cried Murray sadly.

"Wait a bit, sir. Anyhow we've got his boat and his crew; and they knows his ways, and perhaps 'll find out his whereabouts a good deal better than we could."

"Yes, Tom, but--"

"Nothing like patience, sir," said the man. "You mark my words."

CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR.

THE LOST PRISONER.

Murray looked angrily at the big sailor for a few minutes, and then, mastering his annoyance at the easy way in which the man took his trouble, he said--

"Oh, I'll have patience enough, Tom; but what is to be done next?"

Tom May scratched his head and his eyes wandered round till they lit upon the s.h.i.+ny black face of the negro, who was watching him eagerly.

"I'd make that chap lead the way back to the cottage place, sir. He knows all the ins and outs, and he'll show us in half the time we could do it."

"That's good advice, Tom, but what for? I'm in no hurry to meet Mr Anderson."

"But you've got to do it, sir, and the sooner you get it over the better."

"That's true, Tom," said the middy sadly.

"'Sides, sir, how do we know but what Mr Allen may have come back while we've been gone?"

"Tom!" cried Murray excitedly, and after the fas.h.i.+on of the proverbial drowning man, he s.n.a.t.c.hed at the straw the sailor held out to him.

Turning to the black, who was squatting at his feet, he cried, "Take us to Mr Allen."

The slave nodded and grinned as he settled himself down, chattering the while to his crew, who raised their oars ready to dip them in the placid water, when a thought seemed to strike him and he tucked the oar he had seized under one knee and turned to the middy, saying sharply--

"You go kill Ma.s.sa Allen?"

"Kill him? No!" cried Murray, in surprise.

The man nodded and gave the black crew an order, and their oars dipped at once, while the little English party in the cutter followed the lead, and to Murray's surprise he found himself taken through an entirely fresh ca.n.a.l-like lead of water of whose existence he had not the slightest idea.

"I thought so, sir," said Tom May, in a low tone of voice. "This chap knows his way about, and it's worth a Jew's eye to have found him and made friends. You'll see that he'll show us where to go. Shouldn't wonder if he takes us straight to that Mr Allen."

"If he only would, Tom!" replied the mids.h.i.+pman, speaking as if a great load was being taken off his mind.

"Oh, you wait a bit, sir."

"Bother your wait a bit, Tom! I'm sick of hearing it," cried the lad angrily. "Why, look here, they're making straight for the cottage after all."

"Well, didn't you expect they would, sir?" cried the big sailor.

"No; what's the good of that?"

"What I said, sir. Maybe the gentleman has come back again."

"No such good fortune, Tom. Well, we shall soon know;" and the lad sat back in the cutter's stern sheets steering and watching the planter's boat, to which he kept close up, while the black crew threaded their way in and out amongst the canes, till they pulled up by the bamboo landing-stage.

"Ma.s.sa Allen in dere, sah," whispered the black, pointing at the doorway of the cottage, and smiling with satisfaction as if delighted at the skill with which he had played the part of pilot.

Murray sprang on to the creaking bamboo stage, and, ready to believe that the sick man might have returned, he signed to May to follow him, hurried into the place, thrust open the study door and had only to glance in to satisfy himself that the little room was still vacant.

"Let's look in the other room, Tom," said the middy sadly, "but it's of no use; our prisoner has not come back."

A hurried glance was given to each portion of the cottage, and then Murray led the way back to the landing-stage, where the black c.o.xswain sat grinning a welcome.

"He's not there, my lad," cried Murray, shaking his head. "Master Allen has gone."

"Ma.s.sa Allen gone!" repeated the black, and then, as if placing no faith whatever in the young officer's a.s.sertion, he shuffled out of the boat on to the stage, and then ran up to the cottage doorway, where he hesitated for a few moments before entering cautiously on tiptoe.

"See that, sir?" whispered Tom May. "He knows all about them pisonous sarpents."

At the end of a few minutes, during which the mids.h.i.+pman and his follower caught a glimpse or two of the black as he hurried from room to room and evidently made a thorough examination of the place, the man reappeared, with the broad eager grin his countenance had worn entirely gone, to give place to a look of concern and scare. It seemed to Murray that the black's face no longer shone but looked dull and ashy, as if he had been startled, and his voice sank to a whisper as he crept up close to the young mids.h.i.+pman and whispered--

"Ma.s.sa Allen gone!"

"Well, I told you so," said Murray sharply. "Where has he gone?"

The black raised one hand to his lips, upon which he pressed all his fingers together, while he looked behind him and then all about as if to see if any one could hear his words--words which he seemed afraid to utter.

"Well, did you hear what I said? Where has he gone?"

The black shook his head violently.

"There, Tom, your idea is worth nothing," said Murray sadly.

"I warn't sure, sir, of course," said the man, "but still I couldn't help thinking he might have come back, 'specially as the darkie here was so c.o.c.k-sure. Hallo! What's he up to now?" continued the sailor. "Hi!

Stop him, my lads!"

For the black had suddenly made a dash for his boat, and sprung from the stage into his place.

Murray's first thought was that the black was about to escape with his companions, but directly after he saw the cause of the man's scare, for there was the quick, steady chop, chop of oars, and the youth's heart sank with a feeling of despair, for the bows of the _Seafowl's_ second cutter suddenly came into sight, with her crew pulling hard, and there in the stern sat the man, after the captain, whom he least desired to see, and close by him, sitting up smart and consequential to a degree, and seeming to fix his eyes at once keenly upon those of his brother mids.h.i.+pman, was Roberts, looking as if he divined that something was wrong.

"And ready to jump upon me," said Murray to himself. "Oh, how am I to begin?" he thought. "I wish I was anywhere out of this!"

But the first lieutenant did not wait for the lad to begin; he opened the ball himself.