The Maroon Part 87

"True enuf. All right! I'm ready, and so are de rest."

"Den foller me, all ob you. We can plan de mode ob 'tack as we trabbel 'long. Plenty ob time fo' dat, when we find out how de land lie down below. Foller me!"

And with this injunction, the Coromantee commenced descending the ravine, followed by Adam and his band of burglars.

Volume Three, Chapter x.x.x.

A SAD PROCESSION.

On that same evening, about half-an-hour before sunset, a singular procession was seen moving along the Carrion Crow Road, in the direction of Mount Welcome. Its slow progress, with the staid looks and gestures of those who composed the procession, betokened it to be one of a melancholy character.

A rude litter, carried upon the shoulders of four men, confirmed this impression; more especially when the eye rested upon a human form stretched along the litter, and which could easily be identified as a dead body, notwithstanding the camlet cloak that covered it.

There were ten individuals forming this funeral _cortege_; though all were not mourners. Two were on horseback, a little in advance of the rest. Four followed, carrying the litter; while close behind these came four others, two and two--the foremost pair being lashed arm and arm to one another--each also with his hands tied behind his back, and both evidently prisoners. The two that brought up the rear appeared to be guarding them.

The individuals composing this mournful procession may be easily identified.

The two riding in advance were Herbert Vaughan and the Maroon captain; the horses they bestrode being the same that had pa.s.sed over that road the day before, carrying the Custos and his negro attendant. The prisoners were the Spanish _cacadores_--their guards, Quaco and the before-mentioned attendant; while the four men bearing the body were slaves belonging to the plantation of Content.

It need scarce be added that the corpse, stretched stark and stiff upon the litter, was all that remained of the grand Custos Vaughan.

Strictly describing them, not one of the procession party could be called a mourner. None of them had any reason to be greatly aggrieved by the fate that had befallen the owner of Mount Welcome--not even his relative. Notwithstanding this absence of a cause for grief, the faces of all--the prisoners excepted--wore a look of decent gravity becoming the occasion.

Perhaps the nephew would have more keenly felt the situation--for now that his uncle was no more, every spark of hostility had become extinguished--perhaps he might even have mourned, but for certain circ.u.mstances that had just come to his knowledge; and which had the effect not only to counteract within his heart all tendency towards sorrow, but almost to overpower it with joy.

It was only with an effort, therefore, that he could preserve upon his features that expression of sadness, due to the melancholy position in which he was placed.

Despite the presence of death, his heart was at that moment filled with a secret satisfaction--so sweet that he could not deny himself its indulgence. The source of this satisfaction may be easily traced. It will be found in the information communicated to him by the Maroon captain. During their journey of the preceding day, their vigil of the night, and, still further, their long, slow march of that morning, Cubina had made known to him many circ.u.mstances of which he had been hitherto ignorant; among other items of intelligence, one of the most interesting that language could have imparted.

It need scarce be said what this was. It may be guessed at by recalling the conversation between the Maroon and his mistress Yola, occurring at the last tryst under the _ceiba_--that part of it which related to the Lilly Quasheba. Though Cubina's knowledge was only second-hand, it was sufficiently definite to inspire Herbert with hope--something more than hope; and hence that secret joy whose outward manifestation he found it difficult to suppress.

Every word of the conversation that had pa.s.sed between the Maroon and his mistress--every word that referred to _her_ mistress--Cubina had been compelled to repeat over and over again; till Herbert knew it as well as if he had been present during the dialogue. No wonder he was not in a condition to feel very profoundly for the sad fate that had befallen his uncle--hitherto only known to him as a relative harsh and hostile.

Other secrets had Cubina disclosed to him--among the rest, the true character of his patron, Jessuron--which Herbert had already begun to suspect, and which was now revealed to him in all its hideous wickedness. The history of the Foolah prince--hitherto unknown to Herbert--besides his own experiences during the last twenty-four hours, was sufficient to confirm any suspicion that might point to Jacob Jessuron. Though it was plain that the two prisoners in the custody of Quaco had not actually a.s.sa.s.sinated the Custos, it was equally clear that such had been their intention, antic.i.p.ated by a death of another kind. This both Cubina and Herbert conjectured to have proceeded from the same hand--the hand of Herbert's _ci-devant_ host.

The phrase is appropriate. Long before Herbert had heard one half of Cubina's disclosures, he had resolved never more voluntarily to set foot in the Happy Valley--much less return to seek shelter under the roof of Jessuron.

If he should hereafter have aught to do with the Israelite, it would be in the course of justice; as avenger of the death of his murdered relative. That Loftus Vaughan was the victim of a.s.sa.s.sination neither he nor the Maroon for a moment doubted. The conversation which the latter had listened to between Chakra and the Jew--and which, unfortunately, at the time he had not clearly comprehended--was no longer mysterious; only its motive remained so. The deed itself had now furnished the terrible interpretation.

Neither Herbert nor Cubina had any idea of permitting the matter to drop. An event of such fearful significance called for the fullest investigation; and they were now proceeding with the preliminary step-- carrying the body to Mount Welcome, in order that the authorities might be called together, and an inquest inst.i.tuted.

How different were the feelings of Herbert from those he experienced on his former and first approach to the mansion of his haughty relative!

He was now the victim of emotions so varied and mingled as to defy description!

Volume Three, Chapter x.x.xI.

THE ABDUCTION.

To Chakra, viewing them from the summit of the Jumbe Rock, the well-lighted windows of Mount Welcome had proclaimed the presence of company within the mansion. In this, however, the Coromantee was mistaken. In the past such an appearance might have had that signification, or up to a very late period--that is, up to the date of the arrival of the distinguished Smythje. Since the latter had become the guest of Mount Welcome, however, the illumination of the mansion with chandelier and candelabra was not only not unusual, but had been the nightly practice.

This was Mr Vaughan's pleasure; which, in his absence, the house steward had injunctions to carry out. The grand hall was only lit up as usual, its l.u.s.trous floor glistening in the brilliant light, while the profusion of cut gla.s.s and silver plate sparkled upon the sideboards, loudly proclaiming the opulence of the planter. There was no strange company present--none expected--no one who did not belong to the family, except Mr Smythje; and he could scarcely be considered a stranger.

Rather might he be regarded--for the time at least--as the master of the mansion: since in that charge had the Custos left him.

The only individuals occupying this splendid apartment were Smythje and the young mistress of Mount Welcome--both yet ignorant of what had occurred upon the Savanna Road--that fearful event which had left Kate Vaughan a fatherless orphan, at the same time depriving her of the proud t.i.tle we have just bestowed upon her.

Yola, her attendant, went and came at intervals, and Thoms occasionally presented himself in the apartment, in obedience to a summons from his master.

Notwithstanding the absence of company, Smythje was in full evening dress--body-coat, breeches, silk stockings, and pumps, with silver buckles. It was his custom to dress, or be dressed, every evening--a custom so scrupulously observed, that had there been no one in the house except the negro domestics of the establishment, Smythje would have appeared in full fashionable costume all the same. With him the exigencies of fashion were as rigorous as to a holy friar would be the observances of his religion.

The gentleman was in high spirits--merry, indeed; and, strange to say, his companion was less melancholy than of late. No doubt this had given him his cue for mirth.

Why she had been enabled to escape from her habitual dejection was not known to Smythje; but he was fain to attribute the improvement in her spirits to the near prospect of that pleasant ceremony which in a few days must indubitably take place. In a week, or a fortnight at most, Mr Vaughan might be expected back; and then it was understood by all-- tacitly by the young lady herself--that the union of Mount Welcome and Montagu Castle should be no longer delayed.

Smythje had even begun to talk of the wedding _trousseau_; of the honeymoon tour--which was to extend to the grand metropolis; and as Kate, at his request, seated herself to the harp, suggesting a musical conversation, he commenced enlarging upon the theme of the grand "opwa,"

and its attractions--so dear and delightful to himself.

This sort of talk, upon other occasions, had invariably the effect of making his listener more sad; but, strange to say, on that evening, it produced no such a disagreeable consequence. Kate's fingers flitted over the strings of the instrument, drawing music from them that was far from melancholy.

In truth, the young creole was not listening to the _couleur de rose_ descriptions of the "metwopolis," and its "opwa," which Smythje was so strenuously endeavouring to impart to her.

Though seated by the harp, and striking mechanically upon its trings, she was dwelling upon thoughts of a far different character--thoughts suggested by some further intelligence which Yola had communicated to her, and which was the true source of that joy--perhaps but a transitory gleam--that overspread her countenance.

Little did Kate Vaughan suspect that the corpse of her father--lying cold and lifeless upon a stretcher, and surrounded by strange mourners-- was at that moment scarce five miles distant from where she sat, and slowly approaching the now masterless mansion of Mount Welcome!

Little did she suspect, while making that music for Smythje, that, from another direction, monsters in human form were moving towards that mansion--their dark shadows projected across the glare of the window-lights--now stationary, now flitting stealthily onward--at each progressive movement drawing nearer and nearer to the walls!

She saw not these shadowy, demon-like men--had no suspicion either of their approach or intent--an intent which comprehended robbery, rapine of a far more fearful kind--murder, if need be.

Neither its mistress, neither Smythje, nor any one else of Mount Welcome, saw or suspected this mysterious circ.u.mvallation, until the movement had been successfully executed.

Not a word of warning, not a sign or gesture, was given to the occupants of the apartment, until, with wild, unearthly yells, half-a-dozen fiend-like forms--men of horrid aspect--some with black masks, others with naked visage even more hideous to behold--burst into the grand hall, and commenced the work of pillage.

One, of gigantic size, masked from crown to throat, and wrapped in an ample covering of skin--though not sufficient to conceal the deformity of a hunched back--rushed directly up to where the fair musician was seated; and, dashing the harp to one side, seized upon her wrist before she could disengage herself from her chair.

"Whugh!" came the e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n, in loud aspirate, from behind the mask, "I'se got ye at la.s.s, ma Lilly Quasheba--atter many's de yea' ob longin'

fo' hab ye. Ef de quaderoom, ya mudder, she 'cape an' 'corn me, I'se take care de dauter doan' get de same chance. You come 'long wi' me!"

And as the ravisher p.r.o.nounced these words, he commenced dragging his shrieking victim across the room towards the stair entrance.

Smythje's half irresolute interposition was of no avail. With one sweep of his long, flail-like arm, he in the skin cloak sent the exquisite sprawling upon the floor.

The terrified c.o.c.kney no longer thought of resistance; but after scrambling awhile over the polished planks at length succeeded in gaining his feet. Then, without waiting to receive a second knock-down, he shot out through the open doorway, and, descending the stone stairs, in a couple of skips, disappeared in the darkness below.

Meanwhile the alarm had been communicated to the kitchen and all over the house. Shouts of surprise were succeeded by screams of terror. The domestics came running in from all directions; but a shot or two from the muskets and pistols of the black burglars, fired for the purpose of increasing the confusion, scattered the whole establishment of servants, Thoms among the rest, and sent them in full flight towards the sugar-works and negro village beyond.

In less than a score of seconds, Adam and his confederates had the mansion to themselves.

It was but the work of a few minutes to fling, open the buffets and sideboards, and plunder them of their most valuable contents. In less than a quarter of an hour the black burglars had finished their "job,"

and were ready to depart.