Volume 2 Chapter 11 - The Maroon by Mayne Reid
Magistrate and Maroon
“Well, young man,” continued the Custos, in an affable tone, “you, I believe, are one of the Maroons of Trelawney?”
“Yes, worship,” bluntly rejoined Cubina. “The captain of a town, are you not?”
“Only a few families, worship. Ours is a small settlement.”
“And your name is—?”
“Cubina.”
“Ah! I’ve heard the name,” said the Custos. “I think,” added he, with a significant smile, “we have a young girl here on the plantation who knows you?”
Cubina blushed, as he stammered out an affirmative.
“Oh! that’s all right,” said the planter, encouragingly. “So long as there’s no harm meant, there’s no harm done. Mr Trusty tells me you have business with me. Is it about that?”
“About what, your worship?” inquired the Maroon, a little taken by surprise at the question so unexpectedly put to him. “About your sweetheart!”
“My sweetheart, worship?”
“Ay, Yola. Is she not your sweetheart?”
“Well, Mr Vaughan,” rejoined the Maroon, “I’m not going to deny that something has passed between me and the young girl; but it wasn’t exactly about her I’ve come to see you, though now, bein’ here, I might as well talk about that matter, too, if it so please your worship.”
“Very good, Captain Cubina. I’m ready to hear what you have to say. Go on!”
“Well, then, your worship, the truth is, I want to buy Yola.”
“What? Buy your own sweetheart?”
“Just so, worship. Of course, as soon as she would be mine, I’d set her free.”
“That is, you would change the bonds she now wears for the bonds of matrimony?—ha! ha! ha! Is that it, Captain Cubina?” and the Custos laughed at the conceit he had so neatly expressed.
“Something of that sort, your worship,” replied the Maroon, slightly participating in the worthy magistrate’s mirth.
“And do you think Yola desires to become Mrs Cubina?”
“If I didn’t think so, your worship, I wouldn’t propose to buy her. It would be nothing to me to own the girl, if she wasn’t agreeable.”
“She is agreeable, then?”
“Well, worship, I think so. Not that she don’t like the young mistress that owns her at present; but, you see, your worship—but—”
“But there’s somebody she likes better than her mistress; and that’s yourself, Master Cubina?”
“Well, you see, worship, that’s a different sort of liking, and—”
“True enough—true enough!” interrupted Mr Vaughan, as if wishing to come to the end of the conversation—at least, upon that particular topic.
“Well, Captain Cubina,” he added, “suppose I was willing to part with Yola, how much could you afford to give for her? Mind you, I don’t say I am willing: for, after all, the girl belongs to my daughter; and she would have something to say in the matter.”
“Ah, sir!” exclaimed Cubina, in a tone of tender confidence, “Miss Vaughan is good and generous. I’ve often heard say so. I am sure she would never stand in the way of Yola’s being happy.”
“Oh, you think it would make Yola happy, do you?”
“I hope so, your worship,” answered the Maroon, modestly dropping his eyelids as he made the reply.
“After all,” said the planter, “it would be a matter of business. My daughter, even if she wished it, could not afford to part with the girl for less than the market price; which in Yola’s case would be a large one. How much do you suppose I have been offered for her?”
“I’ve heard two hundred pounds, your worship.”
“Just so; and I refused that, too.”
“Maybe, Mr Vaughan, you would not have refused it from another—from me, for instance?”
“Ah, I don’t know about that! But could you raise that large sum?”
“Not just now, your worship. I am sorry to say I could not. I had scraped together as good as a hundred—thinking that would be enough—when, to my sorrow, I learnt I had only got half-way. But, if your worship will only allow me time, I think I can manage—in a month or two—to get the other hundred, and then—”
“Then, worthy captain, it will be time to talk about buying Yola. Meanwhile, I can promise you that she shan’t be sold to anybody else. Will that satisfy you?”
“Oh, thank your worship! It is very kind of you, Mr Vaughan: I’ll not fail to be grateful. So long as Yola—”
“Yola will be safe enough in my daughter’s keeping. But now, my young fellow, since you say this was not exactly the business that brought you here, you have some other, I suppose? Pray tell me what it is.”
The Custos, as he made this request, set himself to listen, in a more attentive attitude than he had yet assumed.
“Well, your worship!” proceeded Cubina, “I’ve come over to ask you for some advice about a matter I have with Mr Jessuron—he as keeps penn close by here.”
Mr Vaughan became doubly attentive.
“What matter?” asked he, in a simple phrase—lest any circumlocution might distract the speaker from his voluntary declaration.
“It’s an ugly business, your worship; and I wouldn’t bother about it, but that the poor young fellow who’s been robbed out of his rights, turns out to be neyther more nor less than the brother of Yola herself. It’s a queer story altogether; and if it wasn’t the old Jew that’s done the thing, one could hardly believe it.”
“What thing? Pray be explicit, my friend.”
“Well, your worship, if you’ll have patience to hear me, I’ll tell you the whole story from beginning to end—that is, as far as it has gone: for it ain’t ended yet.”
“Go on!” commanded the Custos. “I’ll hear it patiently. And don’t be afraid, Captain Cubina,” added he, encouragingly. “Tell me all you know—every circumstance. If it’s a case for justice, I promise you justice shall be done.”
And with this magisterial commonplace, the Custos resumed his attitude of extreme attention.
“I’ll make no secrets, your worship, whether it gets me into trouble or no. I’ll tell you all—leastwise, all that’s come to my knowledge.”
And with this proviso, the Maroon captain proceeded to detail the circumstances connected with the capture of the runaway; the singular encounter between brother and sister; and the mutual recognition that followed. Then afterwards the disclosures made by the young man: how he was an African prince; how he had been sent in search of his sister; the ransom he had brought with him; his landing from the ship, consigned by Captain Jowler to the care of Jessuron; his treatment and betrayal by the Jew; the branding of his person, and robbing him of his property; his escape from the penn; his capture by Cubina, already described; and, finally, his detention by the latter, in spite of several messages and menaces, sent by the Jew, to deliver him up.
“Good!” cried Loftus Vaughan, starting from his chair, and evidently delighted by the recital, somewhat dramatically delivered by the Maroon. “A melodrama, I declare! wanting only one act to complete it. Egad, I shall feel inclined to be one of the actors before it’s played out. Ho!” exclaimed he, as if some thought had suddenly struck him; “this may explain why the old rascal wanted to buy the wench—though I don’t clearly see his purpose in that. It’ll come clear yet, no doubt.”
Then addressing himself once more to the Maroon:—
“Twenty-four Mandingoes, you say—twenty-four belonged to the prince?”
“Yes, your worship. Twenty regular slaves, and four others that were his personal attendants. There were more of the slaves; but these were the lawful property of the captain, the price paid for bringing him over.”
“And they were all carried to the Jew’s penn?”
“All of them, with the others: the whole cargo was taken there. The Jew bought all. There were some Coromantees among them; and one of my men, Quaco, who had talk with these, heard enough to confirm the young man’s story.”
“Ha! what a pity, now, that black tongues can’t wag to any purpose! Their talk goes for nothing. But I’ll see what may be done without it.”
“Did your prince ascertain the name of the captain that brought him over?” inquired the magistrate, after considering a minute.
“Oh yes, your worship; Jowler, he was called. He trades upon the Gambia, where the prince’s father lives. The young man knows him well.”
“I think I know something of him, too—that same Jowler. I should like to lay my hands upon him, for something else than this—a precious scamp! After all, it wouldn’t help our case if we had him. No doubt, the two set their heads together in the business, and there’s only one story between them.
“Humph! what are we to do for a white witness?” continued the magistrate, speaking rather to himself than his visitor. “That, I fear, will be a fatal difficulty. Stay! Ravener, you say, Jessuron’s overseer, was at the landing of the cargo?”
“Oh, yes, your worship. That individual took an active part in the whole transaction. It was he who stripped the prince of his clothes, and took all his jewellery away from him.”
“Jewellery, too?”
“Crambo, yes! He had many valuable things. Jowler kept most of his plunder aboard ship.”
“A robbery! Egad, a wholesale robbery!”
“Well, Captain Cubina,” proceeded the Custos, changing his tone to one of more business-like import, “I promise you that this shall not be passed over. I don’t yet clearly see what course we may have to take. There are many difficulties in a prosecution of this kind. We’ll have trouble about the testimony—especially since Mr Jessuron is a magistrate himself. Never mind about that. Justice shall be done, even were he the highest in the land. But there can be no move made just yet. It will be a month before the assize court meets at Savannah; and that is where we must go with it. Meanwhile, not a word to any one—not a whisper of what you know!”
“I promise that, your worship.”
“You must keep the Foolah prince where you have him. Don’t on any account deliver him up. I’ll see that you’re protected in holding him. Considering the case, it’s not likely the Jew will go to extremities with you. He has a glass house over his head, and will ’ware to throw stones—so you’ve not much to fear.
“And now, young man!” added the Custos, changing his tone to one that showed how friendly he could be to him who had imparted such gratifying intelligence, “if all goes well, you’ll not have much difficulty in making up the hundred pounds for the purchase of your sweetheart. Remember that!”
“Thanks, worthy Custos,” said Cubina, bowing gratefully; “I shall depend upon your promise.”
“You may. And now—go quietly home, and wait till I send for you. I shall see my lawyer to-morrow. We may want you soon.”