Gascoyne, the Sandal-Wood Trader Part 12

"Dun know," replied Jo, very sternly; for the stout mariner also believed in ghosts, as a matter of course, (although he would not admit it), and, being a man of iron mould and powerful will, there was at that moment going on within his capacious breast, a terrific struggle between natural courage and supernatural cowardice.

"Let's go back," whispered Corrie. "I know another pa.s.s over the hills.

It's a longer one, to be sure; but we can run, you know, to make for--"

He was struck dumb and motionless at this point by the recurrence of the dreadful howling, louder than ever, as poor p.o.o.py's despair deepened.

"Don't speak to me, boy," said b.u.mpus, still more sternly, while a cold sweat stood in large beads on his pale forehead. "Here's wot I calls somethin' new, an' it becomes a man, specially a British seaman, d'ye see, to inquire into new things in a reasonable sort of way."

Jo caught his breath, and clutched the rock beside him powerfully, as he continued--

"It ain't a ghost, in course; it _can't_ be that. Cause why? there's no sich a thing as a ghost--"

"Ain't there?" whispered Corrie, hopefully.

The hideous yell that p.o.o.py here set up, seemed to give the lie direct to the sceptical seaman; but he went on deliberately, though with a glazed eye, and a death-like pallor on his face--

"No; there ain't no ghosts--never wos, an' never will be. All ghosts is sciencrific dolusions, nothing more; and it's only the hignorant an'

supercilious as b'lieves in 'em. _I_ don't; an', wots more," added Jo, with tremendous decision, "I _won't_!"

At this point, the "sciencrific dolusion" recurred to her former idea of alarming the settlement; and with this view began to retrace her steps, howling as she went.

Of course, as Jo and his small companion had been guided by her footsteps, it followed that p.o.o.py, in retracing them, gradually drew near to the terrified pair. The short twilight of those regions had already deepened into the shades of night; so that the poor girl's form was not at first visible, as she advanced from among the dark shadows of the overhanging cliffs and the large ma.s.ses of spattered rock that lay strewn about that wild mountain pa.s.s.

Now, although John b.u.mpus succeeded, by an almost supernatural effort, in calming the tumultuous agitation of his spirit, while the wild cries of the girl were at some distance, he found himself utterly bereft of speech when the dreadful sounds unmistakably approached him. Corrie, too, became livid, and both were rooted to the spot in unutterable horror; but when the ghost at length actually came into view, and, (owing to p.o.o.py's body being dark, and her garments white), presented the appearance of a dimly luminous creature, without head, arms, or legs, the last spark of endurance of man and boy went out. The one gave a roar, the other a shriek, of horror, and both turned and fled like the wind over a stretch of country, which, in happier circ.u.mstances, they would have crossed with caution.

p.o.o.py helped to accelerate their flight by giving vent to a cry of fear, and thereafter to a yell of delight, as, from her point of view, she recognised the well-known outline of Corrie's figure clearly defined against the sky. She ran after them in frantic haste; but she might as well have chased a couple of wild cats. Either terror is gifted with better wings than hope, or males are better runners than females.

Perhaps both propositions are true; but certain it is that p.o.o.py soon began to perceive that the succour which had appeared so suddenly, was about to vanish almost as quickly.

In this new dilemma, the girl once more availed herself of her slight knowledge of the place, and made a detour, which enabled her to shoot ahead of the fugitives and intercept them in one of the narrowest parts of the mountain-gorge. Here, instead of using her natural voice, she conceived that the likeliest way of making her terrified friends understand who she was, would be to shout with all the strength of her lungs. Accordingly, she planted herself suddenly in the centre of their path, just as the two came tearing blindly round a corner of rock, and set up a series of yells, the nature of which utterly beggars description.

The result was, that with one short wild cry of renewed horror, b.u.mpus and Corrie turned sharp round and fled in the opposite direction.

There is no doubt whatever that they would have succeeded in ultimately escaping from this pertinacious ghost, and poor p.o.o.py would have had to make the best of her way to Sandy Cove alone, but for the fortunate circ.u.mstance that Corrie fell; and, being only a couple of paces in advance of his companion, b.u.mpus fell over him.

The ghost took advantage of this to run forward, crying out, "Corrie!

Corrie! Corrie!--it's me! _me_! ME!" with all her might.

"Eh! I do believe it knows my name," cried the boy, scrambling to his feet, and preparing to renew his flight; but b.u.mpus laid his heavy hand on his collar, and held him fast.

"Wot did it speak?"

"Yes; listen! Oh dear! come, fly!"

Instead of flying, the seaman heaved a deep sigh; and, sitting down on a rock, took out a reddish brown cotton handkerchief wherewith he wiped his forehead.

"My boy," said he, still panting; "it ain't a ghost. No ghost wos ever known to _speak_. They looks, an' they runs, an' they yells, an' they vanishes, but they never speaks; d'ye see? I told ye it was a sciencrific dolusion; though, I'm bound for to confess, I never heer'd o' von o' them critters speakin', no more than the ghosts.

Howsomedever, that's wot it is."

Corrie, who still hesitated, and held himself in readiness to bolt at a moment's notice, suddenly cried--

"Why, I _do_ believe it's--No: it can't be--yes--I say, it's _p.o.o.py_!"

"Wot's p.o.o.py?" inquired the seaman, in some anxiety.

"What, don't you know p.o.o.py, Alice's black maid, who keeps her company, and looks after her; besides `doin' her, and `undoin' her, (as she calls it), night and morning, and putting her to bed? Hooray! p.o.o.py, my lovely black darling; where _have_ you come from? You've frightened b.u.mpus here nearly out of his wits. I do believe he'd have bin dead by this time, but for me!"

So saying, Corrie, in the revulsion of his suddenly relieved feelings, actually threw his arms round p.o.o.py, and hugged her.

"O Corrie," exclaimed the girl, submitting to the embrace with as much indifference as if she had been a lamp-post, "w'at troble you hab give me! Why you run so? sure, you know me voice."

"Know it, my sweet lump of charcoal; I'd know it among a thousand, if ye'd only use it in its own pretty natural tones; but, if you _will_ go and screech like a bottle-imp, you know," said Corrie, remonstratively, "how can you expect a stupid feller like me to recognise it?"

"There ain't no sich things as bottle-imps, no more nor ghosts,"

observed b.u.mpus; "but hold your noise, you chatter-box, and let's hear wot the gal's got to say. Mayhap she knows summat about Alice?"

At this, p.o.o.py manufactured an expression on her sable countenance, which was meant to be intensely knowing and suggestive.

"Don't I? Yes, me do," said she.

"Out with it then at once, you pot of shoe-blacking," cried the impatient Corrie.

The girl immediately related all that she knew regarding the fugitives, stammering very much from sheer anxiety to get it all out as fast as she could, and delaying her communication very much in consequence,--besides rendering her meaning rather obscure--sometimes unintelligible. Indeed, the worthy seaman could scarcely understand a word she said. He sat staring at the whites of her eyes, which, with her teeth, were the only visible parts of her countenance at that moment, and swayed his body to and fro, as if endeavouring by a mechanical effort to arrive at a philosophical conception of something exceedingly abstruse. But at the end of each period he turned to Corrie for a translation.

At length, both man and boy became aware of the state of things, and Corrie started up, crying--

"Let's go into the cave at once."

"Hold on, boy," cried b.u.mpus, "not quite so fast, (as the monkey said to the barrel-organ w'en it took to playin' Scotch reels), we must have a council of war, d'ye see? That black monster Keona may have gone right through the cave and comed out at t' other end of it, in w'ich case it's all up with our chance o' findin' 'em to-night. But if they've gone in to spend the night there, why we've nothin' to do but watch at the mouth of it till mornin' an' nab 'em as they comes out."

"Yes; but how are we to know whether they're in the cave or not?" said Corrie, impatiently.

"Ah! that's the puzzler," replied b.u.mpus, in a meditative way; "but, of course, we must look out for puzzlers ahead sometimes w'en we gets into a land storm, d'ye see; just as we looks out ahead for breakers in a storm at sea. Suppose now that I creeps into the cave and listens for 'em. They'd never hear me, 'cause I'd make no noise."

"You might as well try to sail into it in a big ship without making noise, you Grampus."

To this the Grampus observed, that if the cave had only three fathoms of water in the bottom of it he would have no objection whatever to try.

"But," added he, "suppose _you_ go in."

Corrie shook his head, and looked anxiously miserable.

"Well then," said b.u.mpus, "suppose we light two torches. I'll take one in one hand, and this here cutlash in the other; and you'll take t'other torch in one hand and your pistol in the other, and clap that bit of a broken sword 'tween yer teeth, and we'll give a horrid screech, and rush in pell-mell--all of a heap like. You could fire yer pistol straight before you on chance, (it's wonderful wot a chance shot will do sometimes), an' if it don't do nothin', fling it right into the blackguard's face--a bra.s.s-mounted tool like that ketchin' him right on the end of his beak would lay him flat over, like a ship in a white squall."

"And suppose," said Corrie, in a tone of withering sarcasm, "suppose all this happened to Alice, instead of the dirty n.i.g.g.e.r?"

"Ah! to be sure. That's a puzzler--puzzler number two."

Here p.o.o.py, who had listened with great impatience to the foregoing conversation, broke in energetically.