The Maroon Part 60

"Come on!" cried he to his companion, hurriedly moving off from the tree; "come on, wench! If that'sh the case, ash you shay, there'sh no time to be losht--not a minute, s'help me!"

And with this elegant reflection, he ended the brief dialogue, and strode swiftly and silently onward across the glade--the woman following close upon his heels.

"_Demonios_!" muttered the Maroon, as they went off. "That John Crow and his pretty partner are on some ugly errand, I fear! It appears to be the Custos they're conspiring against. _Crambo_! I wonder what they are after with him! What can the old Jew have to do with his going to Spanish Town? I must follow them, and see if I can discover. There appears to be some scheme brewing, that bodes no good to Mr Vaughan.

Where can they be gadding to at this time of night? _From_ the Jew's penn, instead of _towards_ it!"

These interrogative reflections the Maroon made to himself. Then, turning once more to his sweetheart, with a gesture that declared his intention to be gone, he said:--

"We must part, Yola, and this instant, love: else I may lose their trail. Adieu! adieu!"

And, with a quick kiss and equally hurried embrace, the lovers separated--Yola returning to Mount Welcome, by a path well-known to her; while the Maroon glided off on the track taken by the penn-keeper and his female companion.

Volume Two, Chapter XXIX.

TRACKING THE STROLLERS.

The Maroon was but a few moments in recovering the "spoor" of the two nocturnal strollers.

At the point where they had gone out of the glade, there was a path that led up the hills in the direction of the Jumbe Rock. It was a mere cattle track--used only very occasionally by bipeds. Being the only path that went that way, and judging, moreover, that neither the Jew nor his follower would be likely to traverse the thicket at random, Cubina concluded that they had gone by this path.

Throwing himself upon it, and advancing with a quick but silent step, he soon recovered sight of them.

The shade of the gigantic trees--it was a primeval forest through which they were pa.s.sing--was favourable to his design; and without much risk of being seen, he was able to keep them in view, and almost within earshot.

At that moment, the mind of the Jew was too pre-occupied to be suspicious; and the mulatta was not likely to trouble her thoughts about whether they were followed or not. Had she known, however--had she even suspected--that her steps were dogged, and by Cubina, the Maroon, it would, no doubt, have sharpened her senses.

"They appear to be making for the Jumbe Rock?" mentally soliloquised Cubina, as they commenced ascending the slope of the mountain.

"_Crambo_! That is odd enough! What do they intend to do there at this hour of the night--or at any hour, I might say? And who's the _he_ that's been sending for Jessuron? She took _him_ a provision basket!

By that, it ought to be some runaway. But what has the old Jew to do with a runaway? To get out of his bed at this time of the night, and tramp it three miles through the woods! For that matter, they say he don't sleep much anyhow; and, like the owl, night's his favourite time, I suppose. Something's being cooked for the Custos: for that girl's a very devil! Not that I should care about _him_, or what happened to him, at any other time. He's not much; and is only helping me in that matter because he hates the other. No matter for him; but from what Yola's told me, I'd go to the world's end for his daughter. Ha! I may do her a service yet. _Valga me Dios_! what's up now? They've stopped!"

The Jew and his companion, about a hundred yards ahead, had suddenly come to a stand. They appeared to be scrutinising the path.

Cubina, crouching in the shadow of the bushes, stopped likewise; and waited for the others to advance.

They did so after a short interval--hastening on as before; but in a slightly divergent direction.

"Ho, ho!" muttered the Maroon; "not for the Jumbe Rock, but the Duppy's Hole! I remember now. The path forks up yonder. They've taken that which goes to the Hole. Well! it don't help me to comprehend their purpose a bit clearer. _Carrai_! that Duppy's Hole! Didn't some of my fellows tell me they've heard strange noises there lately? Quaco is ready to swear he saw the ghost of the old myal-man, Chakra, standing upon the edge of the cliff! They're going there, as sure as my name's Cubina!"

And with this conjectural reflection the Maroon forsook the shadow under which he had been sheltering, and flitted forward along the path.

Another five hundred yards further on, his conjecture was confirmed.

The parties dogged by him had reached the edge of the precipice that frowned down upon the Duppy's Hole, and there halted.

Cubina also made stop--as before concealing himself within the black shadow of the bushes.

He had scarcely crouched down, when his ears were saluted by a shrill whistle--not made by the lips, but proceeding from some instrument, as a reed or a common dog-call. It was plainly a signal, sounded either by Cynthia or the Jew, Cubina could not tell which.

Only once was it given. And there was no answer--for that similar sound, that came like an echo from the far forest, was a counterfeit.

It was the mimic-note of the mock-bird.

Cubina, skilled in these voices of the night, knew this, and paid no heed to the distant sound. His whole attention was absorbed in watching the movements of the two individuals still standing upon the edge of the cliff. The white sky was beyond them, against which he could see their dark _silhouettes_ outlined with perfect distinctness.

After about a minute's time, he saw them once more in motion; and then both appeared to vanish from his view--not wasting into the air, but sinking into the ground, as if a trap-door had admitted them to the interior of the earth.

He saw this without much surprise. He knew they must have gone down the precipice, but how they had performed this feat was something that did surprise him a little.

It was but a short spell of astonishment. In a score of seconds he stood upon the edge of the precipice, at the spot where they had disappeared.

He looked down. He could trace, though dimly, a means of descent among the wattle of boughs and corrugated creepers that clasped the _facade_ of the cliff. Even under the fantastic gleam of the moon, he could see that human hands had helped the construction of this natural ladder.

He stayed not to scrutinise it. An object of greater interest challenged his glance. On the disc of the lagoon--in the moonlight, a sheet of silver, like a mirror in its frame of dark mahogany--moved a thing of sharp, elliptical shape--a canoe.

Midships of the craft, a form was crouching. Was it human or demon?

The aspect was demon--the shape scarce human. Long, ape-like arms; a hunched back; teeth gleaming in the moonlight like the incisors of a shark; features everything but human to one who had not seen them before!

Cubina had seen them before. To him, though not familiar, they were known. If not the ghost of Chakra, he saw Chakra himself!

Volume Two, Chapter x.x.x.

CYNTHIA IN THE WAY.

The heart of the young Maroon, though by nature bold and brave, was for a moment impressed with fear. He had known the myal-man of Mount Welcome--never very intimately--but enough to identify his person.

Indeed, once seen, Chakra was a man to be remembered.

Cubina had, like every one else for miles around, heard of the trial of the Coromantee conjuror, and his condemnation to exposure on the Jumbe Rock. The peculiar mode of his execution--the cruel sentence--the celebrity of the scene where the criminal had been compelled to pa.s.s the last miserable hours of his existence--all combined to render his death even more notorious than his life; and few there were in the western end of the Island who had not heard of the myal-man of Mount Welcome, and the singular mode of atonement that justice had demanded him to make for his crimes.

In common with others, Cubina believed him dead. No wonder, then, that the heart of the Maroon should for a moment misgive him on seeing Chakra seated in a canoe, and paddling himself across the calm surface of the lagoon!

Under any circ.u.mstances, the sight of the Coromantee was not calculated to beget confidence in the beholder; but his unexpected appearance just then produced within the mind of the Maroon a feeling somewhat stronger than astonishment, and for some seconds he stood upon the cliff overcome by a feeling of awe.

Very soon, however, he remembered the statement which his lieutenant had made, and which Quaco had put in the form of an a.s.severation.

Quaco, like most of his colour, a firm believer in "Duppy" and "Jumbe,"

had believed it to be Chakra's ghost he had seen; and under the terror with which the sight had inspired him, instead of making an attempt to pursue the apparition, and prove whether it was flesh and blood, or only "empty air," he had used his utmost speed to get away from the spot, leaving the myal-man's ghost full master of the ground.

Cubina, less given to superst.i.tious inclinings, only for a moment permitted himself to be mystified with the idea of a "Duppy." Quaco's experience, along with the presence of the penn-keeper and his companion--there evidently for a purpose--guided him to the conclusion that what he saw in the canoe was no spiritual Chakra, but Chakra in the flesh.

How the Coromantee came to be still living and moving, the Maroon could not so easily comprehend; but Cubina possessed acute reasoning powers, and the presence of the Jew, evidently _en rapport_ with the restored conjuror, went far towards explaining the mystery of the latter's resurrection.

Satisfied that he saw Chakra himself, the Maroon placed himself in a position to watch the movements both of the men in the canoe, and those who had summoned him across the lagoon.

In another moment the canoe was lost sight of. It had pa.s.sed under the bushes at the bottom of the cliff, where it was not visible from above.

Voices now ascended, which could be heard, but not distinctly.

Cubina could distinguish three voices taking part in the conversation-- Chakra's, the Jew's, and, at longer intervals, the shrill treble of the slave Cynthia.