Volume 2 Chapter 31 - The Maroon by Mayne Reid
Strange Disclosures
The two plotters were palavering loud enough. In that place there was no need—at least, so thought they—for restrained speech; and the listener could have heard every word, but for the hoarse hissing of the cataract. This, at times, hindered him from distinguishing what was said; and only in detached portions could he pick up the thread of the discourse. Enough, however, heard he to cause him astonishment—the greatest of all, that in the Island of Jamaica, or upon the earth, existed two such villains as Chakra, the Coromantee, and Jessuron, the Jew!
He could see the conspirators as well as hear them. The chinks between the bamboos enabled him to obtain a view of both.
The Jew, slightly blown with his long walk against the hill, had dropped into a sitting attitude upon the truck-like bedstead; while the Coromantee stood before him, leaning against the buttress of the tree which formed one side of his dwelling.
The conversation had commenced before Cubina came up. It could not have proceeded far. The lard lamp seemed recently lit. Besides, the Maroon knew that he had been only a few minutes behind them. The plot, therefore, whatever it was, had not yet made much progress.
So reasoned the listener; but it soon appeared that it was the continuation of a plot, and not its first conception, to which he was to become privy—a plot so demoniac as to include murder in its design!
The Jew, when Cubina first got eyes on him, appeared as if he had just given utterance to some angry speech. His dark, weasel-like orbs were sparkling in their sunken sockets, with a fiendish light. The goggles were off, and the eyes could be seen. In his right hand the eternal umbrella was grasped, with a firm clutch, as if held in menace!
Chakra, on the other hand, appeared cowed and pleading. Though almost twice the size, and apparently twice the strength of the old Israelite, he looked at that moment as if in fear of him!
“Gorry, Massr Jake!” said he, in an appealing tone; “how ebber wa’ I to know de Cussus warn a gwine so soon? A nebber speered ob dat; an’ you nebber tole me you wanted de obeah-spell to work fasser dan war safe. Ef a’d a know’d dat, a kud a fotch de dam Cussus out o’ him boots in de shake ob a cat’s tail—dat cud a a’ did!”
“Ach!” exclaimed the Jew, with an air of unmistakable chagrin; “he’s going to shlip us. S’help me, he will! And now, when I wants more ash ever the shpell upon him. I’sh heard something from thish girl Cynthy of a conshpiracy against myshelf. Sheesh heard them plotting in the summer-house in the Cushtos’s garden.”
“Wha’ dey plot ’gain you, Massr Jake? Who am dey dat go plottin’?”
“The Cushtos is one, the other ish that scamp son of Cubina, the Maroon—the young Cubina. You knowsh him?”
“Dat same a know well ’nuf.”
“Ah! the proud Cushtos don’t know—though he hash his sushpicions—that hish wife Quasheba wash the mishtress of a Maroon. Ha! ha! ha! And she luffed the mulatto better as ever she luffed Vanities Vochan! Ha! ha! ha!”
“Dat am berry near de troof,” observed the negro, with a thoughtful air.
“Little dosh the Cushtos think,” continued Jessuron, without heeding the interpolation, “that thish young fellow, whosh a-helpin’ him to conshpire againsht me, is a sort of a son to hish consheited worship. Ha! ha! ha!”
It was startling intelligence for the listener outside the door. It was the first intimation the young Maroon ever had as to who was his mother.
Some vague hints had been conveyed to him in early childhood; but his memory recalled them only as dreams; and he himself had never allowed them expression. His father he had known well—called, as himself, Cubina, the Maroon. But his mother, who or what she had been, he had never known.
Was it possible, then, that the quadroon, Quasheba—of whose fame he, too, had heard—was it true she was his own mother? That “Lilly Quasheba,” the beautiful, the accomplished daughter of the Custos Vaughan, was his half-sister?
He could not doubt it. The conversation that followed put him in possession of further details, and more ample proofs. Besides, such relationships were too common in the Island of Jamaica, to make them matter either of singularity or surprise.
Notwithstanding, the listener was filled with astonishment—far more than that—for the revelation was one to stir his soul to emotions of the strangest and strongest kind. New thoughts sprang up at the announcement; new vistas opened before the horoscope of his future; new ties were established within his heart, hitherto unfelt and unknown.
Stifling his new-sprung emotions as well as he was able—promising them indulgence at some other time—he re-bent his ear to listen.
He heard enough to satisfy him that he had a sister—a half-sister, it is true—but still a sister.
The next point determined on between the conspirators was equally calculated to startle and astonish him. It was no less than a design to render that sister brotherless!
“You musht put the shpell on him, too,” said the Jew; “for heesh the principal in thish plot againsht me. Even if the Cushtos wash out of the way, thish Captain Cubina will go to some other magistrate to carry out hish design. There will be plenty to help him. You musht shpell him, and soon ash you can, Shakra. There’sh no time to lose—not a minnit, s’help me!”
“A do wha a can, Massr Jake; but a mout’s well tell ye, that it a’nt so easy to put de spell on a Maroon. It coss me more’n twenty year to put de obeah on him ole fadder, and I’se a been tryin’ um on dis young Cubina fo’ some time—ebber since him fadder die. A hate de young un, same a hated de ole un. You knows why a hate boaf.”
“I knowsh all that—I knowsh all that.”
“Wa, den! a do ma bess. Dat ar m’latta gib me no hope. She soon ’dminster de spell ef she hab chance—kase she think um de lub drink. She no hab chance, fo’ Cubina he no let her come nigh o’ him. Nebba mind: Chakra he find oppotunity some day; ’fore long he put de death-spell on de son ob dat quaderoom.”
“Perhaps not so soon!” was the mental rejoinder of him who listened to this confident declaration.
“It’sh less matter about him than the other!” cried the Jew, giving way to a fresh burst of rage. “S’help me! the Cushtos is going to shlip out of my fingers—the eshtate—all! Ach!” he ejaculated, as his disappointment came more palpably before him, “you hash played me false, Shakra! I b’lief you’ve been playin’ me false!”
As the Jew gave utterance to this conjectural speech, he started to his feet—taking a tighter hold upon his umbrella, and standing before his vis-à-vis in a threatening attitude.
“No, Massr Jake,” replied the myal-man, without altering the air of obeisance he had hitherto assumed,—“no—nuffin ob dat—anyhow, I’se can say dar’s nuffin ob dat. You yaseff sabbey well ’nuff a hab as good reezun as you to make de spell work, an’ I tell you it shall work!”
“Yesh! when too late—too late! I don’t care then. If the Cushtos get to Spanish Town—if he procuresh the shpecial act, I’m a ruined Shew! I don’t care a shtraw if the death-shpell wash put on myshelf! I don’t!”
This speech was rather a soliloquy than addressed to Chakra, who listened to it without clearly comprehending its import: for the chief motive which was stimulating the Jew was still unknown to his fellow-conspirator.
“I tell you,” resumed Jessuron, still in threatening speech, “I believe you hash been fooling me, Shakra! You hash some interest of your own—perhaps, with thish Lilly Quasheba. Ha! never mind! I tell you thish time—I tell you, Shakra, if the shpell dosh fail—yesh, if it fail, and the Cushtos reach the capital—where he ish going—I tell you, Shakra, you may look out for shqualls! You loosh your monish I promised you. Ay, you may loosh your life ash well. I hash only to shay a word, and the Duppy’s Hole will be searched by the houndsh of the law. Now will you do your besht to keep the Cushtos from reaching the capital of the Island?”
As Jessuron finished the speech containing this conditional threat, he moved in the direction of the door, apparently with the intention of taking his departure.
The Maroon, perceiving the movement, stepped further back into the shadow of the cotton-tree—taking care to conceal himself effectually.
This change of position prevented him from hearing what subsequently passed between the two conspirators. Some more conversation there was on both sides—an interchange of it—which lasted for several minutes; but although the listener could hear the sound of their voices, he was unable to make out the words spoken by either.
What was said by the Jew was principally a repetition of his menace—in terms the most emphatic he could employ; while Chakra, with equal emphasis, repeated his promises to accomplish the nefarious purpose already agreed upon between them.
“A promise, Massr Jake,” said the myal-man, in conclusion, “by de great Accompong, a do ma bess. Ef de Cussus ’trive ’scape, den you do wid ole Chakra whasomediver you hab mind to. ’Liver him up, ef you like! Ha! de Cussus no ’scape. Dis night Cynthy hab take bottle in her basket of de ’trongest kind. It do de bizness in ’bout twenty-fo’ hour. Daat am de true death-spell. Whugh!”
“In twenty-four hours? You ish shure, Shakra? you ish shure?”
“Shoo’ as a ’m now in de Duppy Hole, Massr Jake. Doan’ you hab no mo’ doubt ob ole Chakra. He hab no lub fo’ Cussus Va’ghan mo’ dan youseff. P’raps he lub de Cussus’ dau’ter, but dat am berry diffrent sort ob ’fecshun. Whugh!”
With this speech of fiendish signification the dialogue ended; and the Jew was seen stepping outside, followed by his confederate.
Both walked away from the spot, Chakra taking the lead, the Maroon closely watching their movements.
On reaching the canoe the conspirators stepped aboard, and the craft was paddled over the lagoon.
Cubina waited for its return; and then, seeing Chakra safe within his hut, he hastened back to the water; and, as before, swimming under the shadow of the rock, he re-ascended the tree stairway, and stood once more on the summit of the cliff.