Томас Майн Рид - Лучшие романы Томаса Майна Рида / The Best of Thomas Mayne Reid

Still continuing his rapid stride, Chakra climbed the mountain slope, with the agility of one accustomed to the most difficult paths.

On arriving under the Jumbé Rock, he halted – not with any intention of remaining there, but only to consider.

He looked up towards the summit of the cliff, in whose dark shadow he was standing; and then, raising his eyes still higher, he gazed for a short while upon the sky. His glance betrayed that interrogative scrutiny characteristic of one who, not being furnished with a watch, endeavours to ascertain the time. Chakra needed no watch. By day, the sun was sufficient to inform him of the hour; by night the stars, which were old and familiar acquaintances.

The sinking of Orion [587]towards the silvered surface of the sea told him that in two hours, or thereabout, no stars would be seen.

“Kupple ob hour!” muttered he, after making the observation; “woan do – woan do. By de time I get to de Duppy Hole fo’ de lamp, an’ den back to de rock fo’ fix um – It woan do! Adam an’ his men de better part ob an hour ’fore dey ked climb up hya; an’ den it be daylight. Daat woan do nohow. Muss be done in de night, else we git follered, an’ de Duppy Hole no longer safe ’treat fo’ Chakra. Mussent risk dat, whasomebber a do.

“Whugh!” he continued, after reflecting a moment, and with a look of villainous chagrin overspreading his countenance; “’tam a piece of cuss crooked luck fo’ me no’ be hya ’bout two hour soona. Dat ’ud ’a been s’fishint to got ’em all up in time; an’ dar wud den a been gobs o’ time to ’complish de whole bizness.

“Nebba mind!” cried he, after a pause, and rousing himself from the attitude of reflection; “nebba mind, ye old Coromantee fool! ’morra night do jess as well. Den dar be plenty ob time. ’Taint like dey get de dead corpus ob de Cussus back to de Buff afore two, tree day; an’ ef dat ere nigga fotch de news, it do no harm. Maybe do good, in de ’fusion it make ’bout de place. Nebba mind. It be all right fo’ ’morr’ night. ’Fore dis time ob de mornin’ de Lilly Quasheba – de beau’ful dauter ob dat proud quaderoom – she sleep in de ’brace o’ ole Chakra de myal-man. Whugh!

“Two hour ’fore day,” added he, after a longer pause, in which he appeared to gloat over his fiendish expectations; “two hour. I’se jess hab time go down to de Jew penn, an’ den back to de Duppy Hole ’fore daylight. Dat ole sinner, he want know what’s a been done; an’ a want get de balance ob dat fifty poun’. A mout stan’ need ob de money, now a’s a-gwine ta hab a wife, an’ take to de keepin’ ob a ’tablishment. Ha! ha! ha!”

And as he gave utterance to the laugh, the prospective bridegroom once more put his hideous form in motion, and followed the path leading to the Jew’s penn.

Yola, true to her tryst, set forth to meet her beloved Maroon. The hour of midnight was the time that had been appointed; but, in order to secure punctuality, she took her departure from Mount Welcome long before that hour – leaving herself ample time to reach the rendezvous.

Of late these after-night expeditions had become known to Miss Vaughan, and their object as well. To her young mistress, the Foolah maiden had confessed her penchant [588]for Cubina – her belief of its being reciprocated; in short, had told the whole story of her love.

Common report spoke well of the young Maroon captain – Yola warmly; and as everything contributed to proclaim his intentions honourable, Miss Vaughan made no objection to his meetings with her maid.

There was something in her own sentiments to incline her to this liberal line of conduct. The young creole could sympathise with hearts that truly loved – all the better that, by experience, her own heart had learnt the bitterness of being thwarted.

At all times, therefore – so far as she was concerned – the brown-skinned sweetheart of Cubina had free leave to meet her lover.

On that particular night permission was granted to the maid more freely than ever, since, for a certain reason, the mistress herself desired the interview to take place.

The reason may be guessed without difficulty. On the previous night Cubina had thrown out a hint, which his sweetheart had communicated to her mistress.

She had spoken of some news he might have that would interest the latter; and although there was nothing definite in that, still the hint had led to an indulgence in speculations – vague as dreams, it is true, but tinged with a certain sweetness.

Kate knew something of the romantic friendship that had been established between Herbert and Cubina. Yola had long ago told her of this – as well as the incident that had given origin to it. Perhaps that knowledge may explain the interest, almost amounting to anxiety, she now felt to ascertain the nature of the communication which the Maroon had hypothetically promised to make.

It was only in the afternoon of the day – after the excursion to the Jumbé Rock – that the maid had imparted this piece of intelligence to her mistress: and the altered demeanour of the latter during the rest of the evening proved how interesting it must have been to her. Her anxiety was scarce of the sorrowful kind, but rather tinged with an air of cheerfulness – as if some secret instinct had infused into her spirit a certain buoyancy – as if on the dark horizon of her future there was still lingering, or had suddenly arisen, a faint ray of hope.

Yola had not told all she knew. She said nothing of certain surmises that had escaped the lips of Cubina. With a woman’s tact, she perceived that these, being only conjectural, might excite false hopes in the breast of her young mistress: for whom the girl felt a true affection. In fear of this, she kept back the allusion to the marriage of Herbert and Judith, and its probable failure, which Cubina had so emphatically illustrated by a proverb.

Yola intended this reserve to be only temporary – only until after her next meeting with her lover – from which she hoped to return with a fuller power of explaining it.

Neither had she made known to her mistress the circumstance of having seen Cynthia in company with the Jew, and the conference that had occurred between them, overheard by herself and Cubina – much less the suspicions to which the latter had given expression.

Under the apprehension that a knowledge of these strange facts and suspicions might trouble her young mistress, she had withheld them.

The young Creole had not retired to rest when Yola took her departure from the house, nor yet for long after. Anxious to know the result of the interview between her maid and the Maroon, she remained awake within her chamber – burning the midnight lamp far into the hours of morning.

Notwithstanding the more than permission that had been accorded to her, the princess-slave stole softly from the house – passing the precincts of the mansion, and traversing the grounds outside with considerable caution. This partly arose from the habit of that half-barbaric life, to which, in her own country and from earliest childhood, she had been accustomed. But there was also, perhaps, some suspicion of present danger, or, at all events, that fear of interruption natural to one on the way to keep an appointment of the kind towards which she was now betaking herself.

From whatever motive sprung her cautious behaviour, it was not sufficient to prevent her departure from being observed; nor did it enable her to perceive that thing of woman’s shape that, like an evil shadow, flitted after her across the fields, and went following her along the forest path.

Whenever she turned it also turned, only not preserving an erect bearing, nor going in the same continuous gait; but every now and then pausing upon the path, sometimes in crouched attitude, as if seeking concealment under the shadow of the bushes – then gliding rapidly onward to make stop as before.