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

Now and then also could be heard the Teutonic ejaculation, “Ach!” proving that his soul was under the influence of some unpleasant passion, that was vexing him even to torture.

“Wha’s de trouble, Massr Jake?” inquired the myal-man, scrambling over the edge of the rock. “Dar’s something go wrong, a ’pose, from de way you hab soun’ de signal? A hear de whissel fo’ time.”

“There ish something wrong – a great deal ish wrong – s’help me, there ish! What hash kept you, Shakra?” he added, with a show of vexation.

“Golly, Massr Jake, a war asleep; da’s wha’ d’layed me.”

“How, then, hash you heard the signal four times?”

The query appeared slightly to puzzle Chakra.

“O – a – de signal fo’ time,” stammered he, after a pause of reflection. “Wa, ye see, a hear de fuss time in ma sleep – den de second time he wake me – de third a got to ma feet; and when de fo’th – ”

The Jew – either satisfied with the explanation, or too much hurried to hear the end of it – interrupted Chakra at “de fo’th.”

“It ish no time for talk when Mount Welcome ish in flames. You knowsh that, I supposhe?”

Chakra hesitated, as if considering whether to make a negative or affirmative reply.

“Of course you knowsh it. I needn’t haf ashked. Who wash it? Adam hash been there. Wash it him?”

“Ole Adam hab a hand in dat ere bizness, a b’lieve.”

“You knowsh it, Shakra; and I knowsh another that hash had a hand in it. That ish not my bishness, nor what I hash come here about. There ish worse than that.”

“Wuss, Massr Jake?” inquired the myal-man, with an air of feigned surprise. It might have been real. “Wuss dan dat? Hab de young man no come back?”

“Ach! that ish nothings. There ish far worse – there ish danger: s’help me, there ish!”

“Danger! Wha from, Massr Jake?”

“Firsh tell me where ish Adam now? I want him, and all his fellish.”

“He am gone back to de mountains.”

“Ach! Gone back, you shay? How long ish he gone? Can you overtake him, Shakra?”

“Possab’e a mout; dey won’t trabbel fass. Dey am too hebby load fo’ dat. But wha’ fo’ you want ole Adam, Massr Jake?”

“Bishness of the greatesht importance. It ish life and death. Blue Dick hash been over to Mount Welcome. He hash heerd shtrange news – ach! terrible news! A messhenger who came in from the Saffana road hash brought the newsh of many dishagreeable things – among the resht that my Shpaniards haf been made prisoners by Cubina and thish ungrateful villain of a Vochan. They are accushed of murdering the Cushtos. Blesh my soul!”

“What harm dat do you, Massr Jake? Wha’s de danger?”

“Danger! Dosh you not see it, Shakra? If theesh hunters ish brought to trial, do you supposhe they would hold their tongues? S’help me, no! They will turn Shtate’s efidence; and then I should be exshposed – arreshted – ruined! Oh! why hash I ever trushted theesh clumshy fellish with a bishness of such importance?”

“Dey am clumsy fellas, jess as you say, Massr Jake.”

“Ach! it ish too late to shpeak of regretsh. It ish necessary to take some shteps to prevent thish terrible mishfortune. You musht go after Adam, and find him thish instant – thish instant, Shakra.”

“All right, Massr Jake. A do whatebber you bid me, nebba fear. A soon track up Adam; but wha d’ye want me say to de ole nigga when a hab foun’ ’im?”

“You needn’t shay anything – only bring him back with you to the Shumbé Rock. I shall wait there for you till you come. Don’t keep me long in sushpense, Shakra. Make all the shpeed in your power. If you don’t get back before sunrishe, all will be losht! I’ll be ruined – I will, s’help me!”

“Nebba fear, Massr Jake. A woan lose a minnit. A doan tink dat ere ole nigga’s got far ’way jess yet. A soon obertake ’im. A go atter him at once. Whugh!”

As Chakra uttered the exclamation, he turned on his heel, and was about to start up the mountain, in the direction of the Jumbé Rock, near which he would have to pass on his way towards the haunt of the black robbers.

“Shtay!” cried the Jew, “I’she going with you ash far ash the Shumbé Rock. I may ash well wait there ash anywhere elshe. It ish no ushe my going home now. S’help me! I cannot resht till thish thing ish settled. And now, when I thinksh of it, you may ash well let Adam know for what he ish wanted – so ash he may come prepared. Say to him he ish to go shtraight to Mount Welcome – that ish, where it ushed to be. He’sh not to show hishelf there, but prosheed along the road, till he meets the Cushtos’ body, and them that ish with it. Then he ish to find some way to rescue the Shpaniards, an’ let them eshcape to me. You musht go along with Adam and hish men, elshe they may shpoil all. He musht bring his fellish well armed; you may shtand in need of them all. The messenger said there were some negroes from the eshtate of Content. Theesh won’t signify. They will all run away ash soon as you show yourselves; but the others may be inclined to make fight. There ish Cubina, and the young raschal of an Englishman, besides that giant Quaco, and the messenger hishself. You thinksh you can manage them, Shakra?”

“Sure ob dat.”

“You musht take them by an ambushcade.”

“P’raps we kill some o’ dem.”

“Ash many ash you like. Only make shure to get the Shpaniards off.”

“Be no great harm to kill dem too – atter de fool dey hab made ob demselves, lettin’ dem fellas take um pris’ner dat a way. Whugh!”

“No, no, goot Shakra! – we mushn’t kill our friendsh – we may need them again. You may promish Adam goot pay for the shob. I don’t care for the cosht, so long as it ish clefferly done.”

“All right, Massr Jake; leab dat to me an’ Adam. We do de ting clebberly ’nuf, I’se be boun’.”

And with this assurance Chakra strode off up the mountain, the Jew having set the example by starting forward in advance of him.

On beholding what he believed to be the dead body of his cousin, the grief of Herbert Vaughan proclaimed itself in a wild cry – in tones of the bitterest agony. He flung his gun upon the rock – knelt down by the side of the corpse – raised her head upon his arm, and, gazing upon that face, in death beautiful as ever, drew it nearer to his own, kissed the cold, unconscious lips – kissed them again and again, as though he had hopes that the warmth of his love might re-animate the fair form over which he was bending.

For some time his frenzied caresses were continued – their fervour unchecked by the presence of his rude companions who stood around. Respecting the sanctity of his grief, all observed a solemn silence. Nor word nor sound escaped the lips of any one. Sobs alone proceeded from Cubina. The Maroon had also cause to sorrow at that sad spectacle – but these were not heard. They were drowned by a more powerful voice – the melancholy monotone of the cataract – that had been speaking incessantly since the creation of the world.

It was a long time before the heart of Herbert consented to his discontinuing those cold but sweet kisses – the first he had ever had; the last he was destined to have – from those pale lips; long before he could withdraw his supporting arm from beneath that beautiful head, whose shining tresses lay dishevelled along the rock.

The torch held in the hands of Cubina was burning to its base. Only when warned by its flickering light, did the chief mourner rise once more to his feet; and then making a feeble signal to those who stood around, he moved in solemn silence towards the entrance of the grotto.