Volume 3 Chapter 25 - The Maroon by Mayne Reid
Cynthia in Trouble
The two men who had thus interrupted the silent tableau by the ceiba tree were Jacob Jessuron and Chakra the Coromantee.
Just at the time that Chakra departed from the Jumbé Rock to pay his nocturnal visit to the Jew, the latter was leaving his penn to honour the Coromantee with a similar call.
As both were travelling the same path, and in adverse directions, it was more than probable—a necessity, in fact—that each should meet the other before reaching the end of his journey. Also, as the glade, where stood the great ceiba, was on the same path, and midway between the Jumbé Rock and the Jew’s penn, it was natural this encounter should take place not far from that noted trysting-place. In effect, it occurred within the glade: the two men having entered it almost at the same instant of time.
The Jew had got first into the open ground, and was first seen. The myal-man might have had these advantages had he wished: he had been the first to arrive on the edge of the opening; but, true to his instinct of caution, he had kept under cover until making a reconnoissance, in which he saw and recognised his advancing vis-à-vis.
They met near the middle of the glade, just outside the shadow of the great tree, stopping face to face when within a pace or two of each other. Not the slightest salutation was exchanged between the two men—any more than if they had been two tigers who had just come together in the jungle. The secret compact between them precluded the necessity for compliment or palaver. Each understood the other; and not a word was spoken to introduce the dialogue except that which was pertinent to the business between them.
“Well, goot Shakra! you hash news for me?” interrogated the Jew, taking the initiative in the conversation. “You hash been in the direction of Savanna? Ish all right on the road?”
“Whugh!” vociferated the myal-man, throwing out his breast and jerking up his shoulders with an air of triumphant importance. “All right, eh? Well, not azzackly on de road, but by de side ob daat same, dar lie a corp’, wich by dis time oughter be as cold as de heart ob a water-millyum, an’ ’tiff as—’tiff as—as—de ’keleton ob ole Chakra. Ha! ha! ha!”
And the speaker uttered a peal of fierce laughter at the simile he had had so much difficulty in conceiving; but which, when found, recalled the sweet triumph of his vengeance.
“Blesh my soul! Then it ish all over?”
“Daat’s all ober—Ise be boun’.”
“And the shpell did it? There wash no need—”
With a start the Jew paused in his speech, as if about to say something he had not intended; and which had been very near escaping him.
“There wash no need—no need for you to haf gone after?”
This was evidently not the question originally upon his tongue.
“No need!” repeated Chakra, a little puzzled at the interrogatory; “no need, so far as dat war consarned. Ob coos de ’pell did de work, as a knowd it wud, an’ jess as a told you it wud. ’Twan’t fo’ dat a went arter, but a puppos ob my own. Who tole ye, Massr Jake, dat I wor gone arter?”
“Goot Shakra, I washn’t quite sure till now. The wench Cynthy thought ash how you had followed the Cushtos.”
“Whugh! dat ’ere gal talk too much. She hab her tongue ’topped ’fore long. She muss hab her tongue ’topp, else she gess boaf o’ us in trouble. Nebba mind! A make dat all right too—by-’m-bye. Now, Massr Jake, a want dat odder twenty-five pound. De job am finish, an’ de work am done. Now’s de time fo’ de pay.”
“That ish right, Shakra. I hash the monish here in red gold. There it ish.”
As the Jew said this, he passed a bag containing gold into the hands of Chakra.
“You’ll find it ish all counted correct. Twenty-five poundsh currenshy. Fifty pounsh altogether, ash agreed. A deal of monish—a deal of monish, s’ help me!”
Chakra made no reply to this significant insinuation; but, taking the bag, deposited it in the lining of his skin kaross, as he did so giving utterance to his favourite ejaculation, “Whugh!” the meaning of which varied according to the accentuation given to it.
“And now, goot Shakra!” continued the Jew: “I hash more work for you. There ish another shpell wanted, for which you shall have another fifty poundsh; but firsht tell me, hash you seen anyone to-day on your travels?”
“Seed any one, eh? Well, dat am a quessin, Massr Jake. A seed a good wheen on my trabbels: more’n seed me, I’se be boun’.”
“But ash you seen anyone ash you know?”
“Sartin a did—de Cussus fo’ one, tho’, by de gollies! a hardly wud a knowd him, he wa’ so fur gone—moas to de bone! He am almos’ as much a ’keleton as ole Chakra hisself. Ha! ha! ha!”
“Anybody elshe that you hash a knowledge of?”
“No—nob’dy—neery one as a know anythin’ bout ’ceppin’ de Cussus’ ’tendant. A seed odder men on de road, but dey wur fur off, and a keep dem fur off as a kud. Oa! yes, dar wa’ one who comed near—mose too near—him I knowd. Dat wa’ one ob dem ’ere Trelawney Maroon—Quaco dey call um.”
“Only Quaco, you shay? You hash seen nothing of hish capt’in, Cubina, nor of a young white gentlemansh along with him?”
“Neider de one nor de todder ob dem two people. Wha fo’ you ask dat, Massr Jake?”
“I hash a good reason, Shakra. The young fellow I speaksh of ish a book-keeper of mine. He hash left the penn thish very morning. I don’t know for why, or whither he ish gone; but I hash a reason to think he ish in company with Capt’in Cubina. Maybe not, and maybe he’ll be back again; but it looksh suspicious. If he’sh gone for goot, the shpell will be all for nothingsh. ’S’help me, for nothingsh!”
“Dat’s a pity! I’m sorry fo’ dat, Massr Jake. A hope he no gone.”
“Whether or not, I mushn’t go to shleep about it. There ish another shpell that will be more needed now ash ever.”
“De Obi am ready. Who d’ye want um set fo’ nex’?”
“For this rashcal Cubina.”
“Ah, dat ere in welkum. De god do him bess to ’pell him.”
“He hash trouble for me. It ish not like to come so soon now, ash the Cushtos ish out of the way. But who knowsh how soon? And better ash the shpell should be set at once. So, good Shakra, if you can manish to do for Cubina in as short a time ash you hash done the Cushtos, there ish another fifty poundsh ready for you.”
“A’ll do ma bess, Massr Jake, to earn you money. All do ma bess—de bess can do no mo.”
“That ish true, goot Shakra! Don’t you think this wench, Cynthy, can help you?”
“Not a bit ob help from dat quar’r—not worth a ’traw for ’pelling Cubina. He no let de m’latta come nigh o’ ’im fo’ no considerashun. He sick ob de sight o’ her. Besides, dat gal, she know too much now. She one ob dese days fotch de white folk to de Duppy Hole. Dat nebba do. No furrer use now. She hab serb her turn, an’ mus’ be got rid ob—muss go ’long wi’ de odders—long wi’ de Cussus. Da’s my way—de only way keep a woman tongue tied, am to ’top ’um waggin’ altogedder. Whugh!”
After uttering the implied threat, the monster stood silent a moment, as if reflecting upon some mode by which he could make away with the life of the mulatta.
“You think, Shakra, you ish likely to find somebody elshe to assist you?”
“Nebba fear, Massr Jake. Leab dat to ole Chakra—ole Chakra an’ ole Obi. Dey do de bizness widout help from any odder.”
“Fifty poundsh, then, Shakra. Ach! I’d give twice the monish—yes, s’help me, ten times the monish—if I knew it wash all right with young Vochan. Ach! where ish he gone?”
The expression of bitter chagrin, almost anguish, with which the villainous old Jew, for at least the tenth time on that day, repeated this interrogative formula, told that, of all the matters upon his mind, the absence of his book-keeper was the one uppermost, and deemed by him of most importance.
“Blesh my soul!” continued he, lifting his umbrella high in air, and continuing to hold it up, “Blesh my soul! if he ish gone for goot, I shall have all thish trouble for nothing—all the cr-r—inconvenience!”
It was “crime” he was about to have said; but he changed the word—not from any delicacy in the presence of Chakra, but rather to still a shuddering within himself, to which the thought had given rise.
“Nebba mind, Massr Jake,” said his confederate, encouragingly; “you hab got rid ob an enemy—same’s masseff. Dat am someting, anyhow; an’ a promise you soon get shot ob one odder. A go at once ’bout dat berry bizness.”
“Yesh! yesh! soon, goot Shakra, soon ash you can! I won’t keep yoush any longer. It ish near daylight. I musht go back, and get some shleep. S’help me! I hash not had a wink thish night. Ach! I can’t shleep so long ash he’sh not found. I musht go home, and see if there ish any newsh of him.”
So saying, and turning on his heel, without “good night,” or any other parting salutation, the Jew strode abstractedly off, leaving Chakra where he stood.