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Tom Cringle's Log Part 25

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In my heart I believe he intended this as a hint that I should escape through the hole at some quiet opportunity; and he was descending the ladder, when he stopped and looked round, greatly mortified, as it struck me.

"I forgot to mention that a sentry has been placed, I don't know by whose orders, at the foot of the ladder, to whom I must give orders to fire at you, if you venture to descend. You see how the land lies; I can't help it."

This was spoken in a low tone, then aloud--"There are books on that shelf behind the canva.s.s screen; if you can settle to them, they may amuse you."

He left me, and I sat down disconsolate enough. I found some Spanish books, and a volume of Lord Byron's poetry, containing the first canto of Childe Harold, two numbers of Blackwood, with several other English books and magazines, the names of the owners on all of them being carefully erased.

But there was nothing else that indicated the marauding life of friend Obediah, whose apartment I conjectured was now my prison, if I except a pretty extensive a.s.sortment of arms, pistols, and cutla.s.ses, and a range of ma.s.sive cases, with iron clamps, which were ranged along one side of the room. I paid my respects to the provender and claret; the hashed chicken was particularly good; bones rather large or so, but flesh white and delicate. Had I known that I was dining upon a guana, or large wood lizard, I scarcely think I would have made so hearty a meal. Long cork, No. 2, followed ditto, No. 1; and as the shades of evening, as poets say, began to fall by the time I had finished it, I toppled quietly into my cot, said my prayers such as they were, and fell asleep.

It must have been towards morning, from the damp freshness of the air that came through the open window, when I was roused by the howling of a dog, a sound which always moves me. I shook myself; but before I was thoroughly awake, it ceased; it appeared to have been close under my window.

I was turning to go to sleep again, when a female, in a small suppressed voice, sung the following s.n.a.t.c.h of a vulgar Port Royal ditty, which I scarcely forgive myself for introducing here to polite society.

"Young hofficer come home at night, Him give me ring and kisses; Nine months, one picaniny white, Him white almost like missis.

But missis fum my back wid switch, Him say de shild for ma.s.sa; But ma.s.sa say him"

The singer broke off suddenly, as if disturbed by the approach of some one.

"Hush, hush, you old foolish--" said a man's voice, in the same low whispering tone; "you will waken de dronken sentry dere, when we shall all be put in iron. Hush, he will know my voice more better."

It was now clear that some one wished to attract my attention; besides, I had a dreamy recollection of having heard both the male and female voices before. I listened, therefore, all alive. The man began to sing in the same low tone.

"Newfoundland dog love him master de morest Of all de dog ever I see; Let him starve him, and kick him, and cuff him de sorest, Difference none never makee to he."

There was a pause for a minute or two.

"It no use," the same voice continued; "him either no dere, or he won't hear us."

"Stop," said the female, "stop; woman head good for someting. I know who he shall hear.--Here, good dog, sing psalm; good dog, sing psalm,' and thereupon a long loud melancholy howl rose wailing through the night air.

"If that be not my dear old dog Sneezer, it is a deuced good imitation of him," thought I.

The woman again spoke--"Yowl leetle piece more, good dog," and the howl was repeated.

I was now certain. By this time I had risen, and stood at the open window; but it was too dark to see any thing distinctly below. I could barely distinguish two dark figures, and what I concluded was the dog sitting on end between them.

"Who are you?" "What do you want with me?"

"Speak softly, ma.s.sa, speak softly, or the sentry may hear us, for all de rum I give him."

Here the dog recognised me, and nearly spoiled sport altogether; indeed it might have cost us our lives, for he began to bark and frisk about, and to leap violently against the end of the capstan-house, in vain endeavours to reach the window.. "Down, Sneezer, down, sir; you used to be a dog of some sense; down."

But Sneezer's joy had capsized his discretion, and the sound of my voice p.r.o.nouncing his name drove him mad altogether, and he bounded against the end of the shed, like a battering-ram.

"Stop, man, stop," and I held down the bight of my neckcloth, with an end in each hand. He retired, took a n.o.ble run, and in a trice hooked his forepaws in the handkerchief, and I hauled him in at the window.

"Now, Sneezer, down with you, sir, down with you, or your rampaging will get all our throats cut." He cowered at my feet, and was still as a lamb from that moment. I stepped to the window. "Now, who are you, and what do you want?" said I.

"Ah, ma.s.sa, you no know me?"

"How the devil should I? Don't you see it is as dark as pitch?"

"Well, ma.s.sa, I will tell you; it is me, ma.s.sa."

"I make no great doubt of that; but who may you be?"

"Lord, you are de foolis person now; make me talk to him," said the female. "Ma.s.sa, never mind he, dat stupid fellow is my husband, and surely ma.s.sa know me?"

"Now, my very worthy friends, I think you want to make yourselves known to me; and if so, pray have the goodness to tell me your names, that is, if I can in any way serve you."

"To be sure you can, ma.s.sa; for dat purpose I come here."

The woman hooked the word out of his mouth. "Yes, ma.s.sa, you must know me is Nancy, and dat old stupid is my husband Peter Mangrove, him who"

here Peter chimed in--"Yes, ma.s.sa, Peter Mangrove is de person you have de honour to address, and"--here he lowered his voice still more, although the whole dialogue from the commencement had been conducted in no higher tone than a loud whisper--"we have secured one big large canoe, near de mout of dis dam hole, which, wid your help, I tink we shall be able to launch troo de surf; and once in smoot water, den no fear but we shall run down de coast safely before de wind till we reach.

St Jago."

My heart jumped against my ribs. Here's an unexpected chance, thought I. "But, Peter, how in the name of mumbo jumbo, came you here?"

"Why, ma.s.sa, you do forget a leetle, dat I am a Creole negro, and not a naked tatooed African, whose exploits, dat is de wonderful ting him never do in him's own country, him get embroidered and pinked in gunpowder on him breach; beside, I am a Christian gentleman like youshef; so d----n mumbo jumbo, Ma.s.sa Cringle."

I saw where I had erred. "So say I, Peter, d----n mumbo jumbo particularly; but how came you here, man? tell me that."

"Why, ma.s.sa, I was out in de pilot boat schooner, wid my wife here, and five more hands, waiting for de outward bound, finking no harm, when dem piratical rascal catch we, and carry us off. Yankee privateer bad enough; but who ever hear of pilot being carry off? blasphemy dat--carry off pilot! Who ever dream of such a ting? every shivilized peoples respect pilot--carry off pilot!--oh Lord" and he groaned in spirit for several seconds.

"And the dog?" enquired I.

"Oh, ma.s.sa, I could not leave him at home; and since you was good enough to board him wid us, he has messed wid us, ay and slept wid us; and when we started last, although he showed some dislike at going on board, I had only to say, Sneezer, we go look for you master and he make such a bound, dat he capsize my old woman dere, heel, over head; oh dear, what display, Nancy, you was exhibit!"

"Hold your tongue, Peter; you hab no decency, you old willain."

"Well, but, Peter, speak out; when are we to make the attempt? where are the rest of your crew?"

"Oh dear! oh dear! dat is de worstest; oh dear!" and he began to cry and sob like the veriest child. "Oh, ma.s.sa,"--after he had somewhat recovered himself;--"Oh, ma.s.sa, dese people debits. Why, de make all de oder on board walk de plank, wid two ten pound shot, one at each foot.

Oh, if you had seen de clear shining blue skin, as de became leetle and leetle, and more leetler, down far in de clear green sea! Oh dear! oh dear! Only to tink dat each wavering black spot was fellow-creature like one-shef, wid de heart's blood warm in his bosom at de very instant of time we lost sight of him for ever!"

"G.o.d bless me," said I; "and how did you escape, and the black dog, and the black--ahem--beg pardon--your wife I mean; how were you spared?"

"Ah, ma.s.sa! I can't say; but bad as de were, de seemed to have a liking for brute beasts, so dem save Sneezer, and my wife, and myshef; we were de only quadrupeds saved out of de whole crew Oh dear! Oh dear!"

"Well, well; I know enough now. I will spare you the pain of any farther recital, Peter; so tell me what I am to do."

"Stop, ma.s.sa, till I see if de sentry be still sound. I know de fellow, he was one on dem; let me see"--and I heard him through the loose flooring boards walk to the foot of the trap ladder leading up to my berth. The soliloquy that followed was very curious of its kind. The negro had excited himself by a recapitulation of the cruelties exercised on his unfortunate shipmates, and the unwarrantable caption of himself and rib, a deed that in the nautical calendar would rank in atrocity with the murder of a herald or the bearer of a flag of truce. He kept murmuring to himself, as he groped about in the dark for the sentry "Catch pilot! who ever hear of such a ting? I suppose dem would have pull down light-house, if dere had been any for pull. Where is dis sentry rascal?--him surely no sober yet?"

The sentry had fallen asleep as he leant back on the ladder, and had gradually slid down into a sitting position, with his head leaning against one of the steps, as he reclined with his back towards it, thus exposing his throat and neck to the groping paw of the black pilot.

"Ah--here him is, snoring heavy as my Nancy--well, dronk still; no fear of him overhearing we--nice position him lie in--quite convenient--could cut his troat now--slice him like a pumpkin--de debil is surely busy wid me, Peter. I find de very clasp--knife in my starboard pocket beginning to open of himshef."

I tapped on the floor with my foot.

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Tom Cringle's Log Part 25 summary

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