CHAPTER XXVI.
“How now, you secret, black, and midnight hags,What is’t you do?”Macbeth.
“How now, you secret, black, and midnight hags,What is’t you do?”Macbeth.
“How now, you secret, black, and midnight hags,What is’t you do?”Macbeth.
“How now, you secret, black, and midnight hags,
What is’t you do?”
Macbeth.
It was dark, on a certain evening, to which the attention of the reader is now called, when, amidst the rocks and bushes of the mountainous district that flanks Port-of-Spain on the east, and that is known by name of La-vantille, two female forms might be perceived.
They were following a rough and narrow path which led up to the mountains through a thousand rugged ascents and yawning and frightful precipices. The two travellers seemed foot-sore and exhausted, and were compelled now and then to grasp a root or twig of the Guava-bushes that grew here and there to assist them, as they arrived at a more broken and difficult part of the small road. The air was also oppressive—the rocks were stillradiating the beams which the sun, that had not long set, had shot full upon them as it was sinking in the west. Nature was hushed: but the distant and faint barking of the cur that guarded some invisible hut, and bayed at some imaginary danger, fell on the ear.
The two persons still followed the path, and ascended still higher and higher up the mountain that overlooks Port-of-Spain.
“You are tired, madame,” said one of the persons, whose dress indicated an humble condition in life, and who was evidently conducting the other.
“Yes,” replied the other, who appeared to be of a different class.
“We shall not have very much farther to go,” said the guide.
“The place is certainly a great distance from town,” remarked the other.
“Yes, it is, and the path is very rough and unpleasant; but we shall presently come to a beautiful spot, where we shall be able to rest for a few moments.”
“No, no,” answered the other; “it would be better to proceed at once: the night is now quickly coming on, and we do not know what dangers there may be among these solitary rocks. What, if robbers were to attack us?”
“Robbers,” replied the other; “madame needs not fear robbers; bless me, people would not take the trouble to come and remain here for the purpose of robbing others. Robbers are never heard of in Trinidad, I assure you.”
“Indeed,” replied the other.
“Yes, indeed: I know persons who have traversed this place at all hours of the night. I myself have passed here on one of the darkest nights, and quite alone, also: you need not be under any fear, I assure you.”
In the mean time the wayfarers arrived at a small level piece of ground that was covered with grass. It was quite an “oasis” in those rough and flinty parts.
“Ah,” cried the guide, “here is the place, let us rest here,” and sat down on the grass. The lady did the same.
“This is a beautiful little spot, is it not, madame?” remarked the guide interrogatingly.
“It seems so,” answered the lady.
“If it was day, you should be able to see the whole country round from this,” proceeded the guide: “on that side is Caroni, where we first settled when my master and his family came from Carriacou; a disagreeable and muddy place, madame; there is Maraval, a sweet pretty spot, with beautiful hills and scenes; andstraight before us lies the sea. If it were light, you would be able to perceive the five islands, and the large bay where Admiral Appadocca—”
At this name the lady started suddenly.
“What is the matter, madame?” asked the guide.
“Nothing, nothing,” hastily replied the lady.
“Do not be alarmed; it is, no doubt, a cricket, that has jumped on you. There are not many snakes here: Caroni is the place for them,” observed the female cicerone.
“Well, as I was saying, madame,—what was I saying?—I was telling you about the large bay where Admiral Appadocca—”
The lady started again, but more slightly than before.
“Let me drive it away for you,” said the guide, “these crickets are sometimes very troublesome; but they are a sign of good luck—they are a sign of good luck. People say, those on whom they may happen to jump, are sure to have money—plenty of money. Where is it? let me catch it.”
“Oh, never mind, never mind,” the lady said hastily, “continue, continue your story.”
“When Admiral Appadocca, I was saying, set the Spanish ships on fire, at the time when the English took the island, I remember the blaze they made.People say they were laden with gold: what a pity that was.”
“Why did he set them on fire?” inquired the lady.
“Because he would not let the money fall into the hands of the English,” answered the guide.
“And what became of the admiral himself?” the lady inquired again.
“I really cannot say,” answered the guide.
A short pause ensued.
“Had he any son, do you know?” asked the lady after a time,
“I do not know, madame,” answered the guide.
“The money that I spoke of just now, has been all lost. They say that sometimes the fishermen manage to bring up a portion. I don’t think that is true,” said the guide.
“Do you not think we had better go on,” inquired the lady—“I wish very much to see that old woman, as soon as possible.”
“Come, then,” answered the guide, and the two travellers continued their journey. As they proceeded, the path became still more rough, steep, and trying. They, however, went on.
“I should be very much disappointed,” said the lady, “if after all this trouble and labour, the person that youtell me of, should not be able to give me the information I require.”
“Never fear that, madame, never fear that,” replied the guide, “she is a wonderful woman.”
“Do you know of any instance in which, what she said, turned out to be the truth?” asked the lady.
“Bless me, yes, madame, great many, I can assure you. She has often foretold what would happen, and what she said, proved as true as possible.”
“She may be able,” said the lady, “to speak about what is to come, but can she say any thing about the present?”
“All,” replied the guide.
“Do you think, she will be able, to give me any information, about the person whom I am now seeking?” inquired the lady.
“I am sure she will,” answered the guide.
“Let us walk faster,” said the lady, and, at the same time, quickened her pace.
“I should not advise you to walk faster, madame,” said the guide, “we have still a considerable way to go.”
“True,” said the lady, and fell again into the measured and leisurely pace of the guide.
“You are sure she will give me the information, you say?” observed the lady.
“Quite sure,” answered the guide, dryly, “I can point you out a hundred families in town, who were landed here as poor myself, and who made the great fortunes they now possess, only by consulting her. In the time of slavery, when a planter lost any of his slaves, he had nothing else to do, but to come to her, and she would send him to the very corner, where he would be sure to find his run-a-way.”
“Indeed!” cried the lady.
“It is true,”—replied the guide, “beside, she can cure all sorts of disorders. Those that are pronounced incurable by the doctors in town, resort to her, and are sure to be restored to health.”
“I remember one case in particular,” said the guide, seriously, “of a man who had been suffering for two years, from a hand that was swollen to a very great size. He could not get any rest, either night or day, but groaned continually. He consulted every doctor—they did everything in their power but could not relieve him. His hand grew daily worse and worse: and he was reduced to the size of a nail. Well, some one told him about this old woman, and he came to her. She examined the hand, then pressed the fingers; from under the nails of each she took out a rusty pin. Next day the hand was perfectly cured.”
“Impossible,” said the lady.
“Quite true,” replied the guide.
“There is another case,” continued the guide, “that is as striking. There was once an unfortunate man who was afflicted with madness; sometimes he was quiet, at others he would break out in the greatest violence and beat his wife and children almost to death. All the doctors saw him and said he was quite gone, there was no curing him. His illness daily gained ground upon him, until at last he went violently mad. His friends were grieved on his account, and were at last persuaded to take him to the old woman. They did so: as soon as she saw him, she took a little stick and struck him on the head; his skull opened: she took out twenty small fishing hooks that were stuck into his brains; and closed the skull again. In a few moments the man was cured.”
“Is that possible?” exclaimed the lady.
“It is remarkable,” observed the guide.
“Did you see the cure yourself?” inquired the lady.
“No, I did not,” answered the guide, “but every one in the town knows it.”
The path in the meantime became more rugged, broken, and steep.
“Ha, we are now arrived,” said the guide, taking a long inspiration.
The travellers made two or three steps forward, and they immediately perceived a faint light that glimmered indistinctly through the brushwood.
“Now, madame, you must disguise yourself, or else she won’t speak to you,” said the guide.
“Why so?”
“Because,” replied the guide, “there is a law in this country against those who tell fortunes. If it was to be known that she told anything to any one, she would be burnt alive. Leave your veil here, madame, there, so, and hide your comb with it. That’s it, that’s it; now take this handkerchief, tie it round your head—let me do it.”
The guide tied and adjusted a Madras handkerchief on the head of the lady.
“Now let us go: and recollect let me speak.”
The two travellers diverged into a still narrower part that was almost entirely hidden by the bush which grew thickly and fully about it.
The angry barking of a dog was now heard. The travellers still went on, until they could now distinguish the outlines of a low and narrow hut, in the open part of which the embers of a wood fire still smouldered. By its faint light, was to be indistinctly seen, the form of thewakeful watch-dog, that stood determinedly a little way in front of the hut, and barked fiercely and fretfully.
The two women stood, afraid of approaching nearer. The dog still barked noisily.
“Ho, mother! mother Celeste,” called the guide. “Mother Celeste!”
No one answered.
“She does not hear,” observed the lady, “she is asleep; call louder.”
“Ho, Mother Celeste! Mother Celeste! it is I, it is I,” repeated the guide.
Still there was no answer,—the dog barked still more loudly.
“Heavens! I hope we have not come all this way for nothing,” exclaimed the lady, in a voice that faltered with anxiety.
“It is to be hoped not,” answered the guide, and she began to call out more loudly than before. “Mother Celeste! Mother Celeste!”
“Who is is that comes to disturb me at this lonely hour of the night?” said a weak and obscure voice, that came from within the fragile hut.
“It is I, it is I, and another person, who wish to see you,” answered the guide.
“You cannot see me to-night. I do not knowwhat you have to see me about,” answered the same voice.
“We have come a great distance, and we cannot return without seeing you: let us in.”
“I cannot open my door at this hour of the night,” replied the voice: “return.”
“That we cannot,” replied the guide. “Call your dog, Mother Celeste, and open the door to us; you will see what a present we have brought you.”
“What present can you bring me this time of night?”
“Fifty dollars, Mother Celeste, fifty dollars.”
“I can’t open to you,” replied the voice, “I can’t open to you.”
“Say a hundred,” said the lady.
“Well, a hundred dollars,” cried the guide.
“It is very late, I do not know who you may be; I shall consider—I shall consider,” said the same voice.
“She will open now,” said the guide, “that is what she always says, she is now hiding all her things.”
Truly enough, in a short time, the voice from within was again heard.
“Approach, my children; come and tell me your woes,” it said.
“But the dog, the dog,” cried the guide.
“True,” replied the same voice, “Fidele, Fidele,” itcalled, and the dog immediately became silent and disappeared.
The two females now approached the hut. It was a little cabin, that was built of a few pieces of round timber, which were now black with smoke. Palmeto leaves formed a slight covering to it. A few reeds roughly fastened to the primitive posts, fenced in the part which lay in the direction from which the wind usually came. The other, or inner part of the hut, however, was fenced entirely in, and covered, as the sleeping apartment.
“Wait until I strike a light,” said the same voice.
In a few moments a rudely constructed old door opened.
“Enter, enter, quickly, my children,” said the same voice.
The lady hesitated a moment.
“Go in, go in, madame,” said the guide, and gently pushed her.
The two travellers entered.
The hut presented as peculiar an appearance on the inside as it did on the outside. The rough pieces of Palmeto bark that boarded it, was hung with drapery of spider’s webs, that either floated black with time and dust, or was still spread in the process of extension, under the industry of the master insect himself.From crooked nails, that were driven into this primitive wall, a number of bottles, of peculiar fashions and makes, hung suspended by cord that had long lost its colour under the many dyes which it may have received from the black, yellow, green, brown, and bluish liquors which those bottles seemed to contain.
In one corner stood a rough bed, that seemed constructed of four branches of a Guava-bush; and around, a number of nasty, greasy, barrels were ranged, and had their heads carefully covered over by pieces of plastered old canvass.
In one of the deep angles of the hut there burnt a lamp, constructed of a hollow gourd, in which some cotton and some oil were adjusted, and was made to throw around a dim light, whose faint radii did not extend farther than a foot or two beyond its centre.
At the side of this lamp was huddled up a being which at first view, might appear to be one from whom life had long departed, and whom the veneration of friends or kindred persisted in still retaining among them. She was a little black woman of diminutive size, with an old greasy dress, that lay slack and loose about her. Her knees were drawn up to her jaws, which protruded largely and hideously. Her skin was shrivelled and dry, and seemed to flap as she moved her toothless jaws. AMadras handkerchief was tied carelessly round her head, and from a corner, or a hole here and there, her short gray and matted hair peeped out.
“Good night to you, Mother Celeste,” said the guide, as she drew a three-legged stool for the lady, and sat, herself, on the ground.
“Good night to you, my children, good night,” said Mother Celeste.
“I have brought this friend of mine,” said the guide, “to see you on a matter of great importance.”
“To see me? to see me, my child,” mumbled Mother Celeste: “what can I do for her, poor old woman as I am, except give her my blessing?”
“She wants some information about a person she is seeking,” said the guide.
“How can I give it, how can I give it, my child?” answered Mother Celeste.
“Try, mother, try,” remarked the guide.
A pause ensued, during which Mother Celeste seemed thoughtful.
“What friend of yours is this, my child?” inquired Mother Celeste.
“She is from the Spanish main,” answered the guide.
Mother Celeste raised the rude lamp to the face of the lady: “Yes, yes,” she muttered, and replaced it on theground, and then grasped her hand: the lady started when she felt the rough hacked skin of the sorceress.
“Do not start, my child,” said Mother Celeste, “do not start; and now tell me your story,” she mumbled. “Will you go into the front awhile?” she added to the guide.
The latter opened the little door, and went out.
“I love,” said Feliciana, whom the reader may have recognised before this, “I love a man—a stranger to me—I cannot tell you how I love him. He was taken to my father’s house, from the beach on which he was found half drowned. I loved him the very first moment I saw him, he is so handsome. He suddenly left my father’s house, and now I wish to know where to find him. Do tell me: there are a hundred dollars for you.”
The sorceress clutched the money and pressed her flabby lips to it again and again, then tottered towards her rude bed and laid it under her pillow.
“Yours is a difficult case, child,” mumbled the old woman.
“What is the man?”
“Alas, mother,” answered Feliciana, “I fear he is a pirate.”
“Is he short or tall?”
“Tall.”
“Dark or fair?”
“Pale.”
“Retire for a moment, child,” said mother Celeste.
Feliciana went out of the small apartment.
An hour passed. During this time, Feliciana and her guide were alarmed by the horrible noises that were heard from the room of the sorceress. Now the most fearful yells—now the most heart-rending groans broke forth—the violent stamping of several individuals were at one time heard, at another, the strangest jargon grated harshly on the ear, while, at the same time, the stench that penetrated through the chinks in the partition almost suffocated those without.
Feliciana and her guide trembled in utter fear.
“Shall we run away?” said one to the other.
“No, no,” answered Feliciana, her whisper almost inarticulate with terror.
Even at this trying moment the thought of Appadocca was the most powerful in her mind. The hope of finding him, sustained her against all terrors.
At the end of the hour the little door of the hut was violently opened, and the little sorceress was seen standing in a body of flame.
“Seek your lover, amidst the tombstones to-morrow, at the lonely hours of night,” she said, and the door was violently closed.
This uncertain answer fell on the ears of Feliciana like a thunderbolt.
“Oh, he is dead—he is dead,” she cried, and wept bitterly.
The guide stood aside and allowed the young lady to give vent to her sorrow.
“Who knows, madame,” she said, after a few moments, “the answer may not mean that.”
The young lady raised her head for a moment, a new thought seemed to strike her.
“Let us ask,” she said, “let us ask?”
“Oh, she will not open the door now, for the world,” the guide replied.
“Will she not? Mother Celeste, Mother Celeste,” cried Feliciana.
The barking of the dog that now reappeared drowned their voices.
“I tell you, madame, she will not open the door,” said the guide. “I ought to know her, since I bring people to her almost every day.”
Feliciana remained buried in thought where she was for a moment. “Let us go,” she shortly said.
The two travellers began to retrace their steps towards Port-of-Spain.
Feliciana was sad and pensive; the guide was less talkative than before, and after half-an-hour’s walk, the barking of the dog still reached their ears.