"Pistol shots! No. I heard no pistol shots," quoth he, drily.
"The devil you didn't—then you must have been deaf," thought I; and as he turned to rejoin the dancers, I made him out, the moment he came into the light, to be the stranger indicated in the conversation between the landlord and his guest at supper.
"Very odd all this," quoth I; and I should say, were he a suspicious character, that it was very shallow in this chap to let such an exclamation escape him; and I again looked earnestly at him. "Ah! I see, he has been drinking wine, like our friend the skipper."
I joined our host, but still I could not avoid again asking him who the deuce this same stranger was?
"I really cannot tell you, Mr Brail. He is a very well-bred man—you seethatyourself,—but there is something uncommon about him, unquestionably. All the women are dying to know who he is, he dances so well."
"Ay, and talks so bewitchingly," quoth my lady-hostess—no less a person,—as she passed close to us, hanging on the very individual's arm.
"Heyday! It's my turn now—so! Confound the fellow, whocanhe be?" said my host, laughing.
"That strange gentlemanhas sucha beautiful tone of voice, uncle," said a little lady—his niece, I believe,—who during our colloquy had taken hold of Mr Roseapple's hand.
"Indeed, Miss Tomboy!—Why, there again, Mr Brail. Young and old, male and female—he seems to have fascinated all of them.—But I really cannot give you more information regarding him, than that my friend Turner brought him up in his gig from Falmouth, and sent to ask leave if he might bring him to the party. It seems he came over two days ago from the opposite coast of Cuba, in a felucca, with live stock and dye woods,"—I started at this—"or something equally ungenteel, which he consigned to Turner; and, having got the value of them in advance, he is on his way to Kingston. He says that the cargo was merely to pay his expenses, and seemed desirous of insinuating, I thought, that accident alone had been the cause of his being led to deal in such vulgar articles as Spanish bullocks and Nicaragua wood."
"I verily believe him," said I.
"He does seem a high sort of fellow," continued Mr Roseapple, without noticing my interruption. "But here is Turner, let us ask him.—I say, Turner, allow me to introduce Mr Brail to you."
We bowed to each other.
"We have been speaking about your friend."
"Well," said Turner, "I believe, Roseapple, you know about as much of him as I do."
"Pray," said I, "may I ask what sort of craft this same felucca was?"
The Falmouth gentleman described the Midge exactly.
"Well," thought I, "the vesselmaybe owned by an honest man after all; at any rate, what does it signify to me whether she be or no?" Nevertheless, I had an itching to know more about her somehow.
"Is the felucca still at Falmouth, sir, may I ask?" continued I.
"No; she sailed yesterday morning at daylight."
"That was something of the suddenest too," said I.
"We gave her every expedition, sir."
"I don't doubt it—I don't doubt it—Was there a schooner in company, sir?"
"No; no schooner——But there is my partner waiting for me, so you'll excuse me, Mr Brail." So saying, away skipped Mr Turner, and I had no other opportunity of asking him any more questions.
As I had nothing particular to engage me among the dancers, I again strolled into the dark piazza. Mr Roseapple followed me.
"Why, you seem strangely given to the darkness, Mr Brail; it cannot be because your deeds are evil; won't you join the dancers?"
"I will presently, sir," said I laughing; "but really I have a great curiosity to know what that ship is about out there. Is there any vessel expected from England, sir?"
"Oh, a great many. The Tom Bowline from London has been becalmed in the offing the whole day; I saw her from the piazza some time ago. I fear she will not get in until the sea-breeze sets down to morrow. There," said he, pointing at the lessening vessel, "look! she has stood out to sea yonder. She intends giving the land a good berth until daylight, I suppose."
"She does do that thing," thought I.—"Pray, Mr Roseapple, do you happen to know whether she took a pilot during the daylight?"
"To be sure she did—she is consigned to me. The pilot-canoe brought my English letters ashore."
"Indeed!" said I; "then what boats could those be that boarded her a little while ago? Besides, I heard pistol shots, and a sound as of struggling."
"Oh," quoth mine host, "the captain is a gay chap, and has a great many friends here, who are generally on the look-out to board him in the offing. Besides, he is always burning lights, and blazing away."
"Very well," thought I, "it's all one to me."
I now noticed that the ship, having got into the sea-breeze, had bore up again, and was running down towards the two small vessels to leeward. As she ran off the wind, and got between us and the moon, her sails no longer reflected the light, but became dark and cloudlike; when she reached them, they all stood out to sea, and gradually disappeared in the misty distance like dusky specks. Not wishing to appear an alarmist, I made no farther remark.
As Mr Roseapple and I walked back into the room, the first thing that struck us was the master of the Ballahoo sound asleep on a sofa, and Mr Flamingo carefully strewing the great rough seaman with roses and jessamine leaves.
"Love amongst the roses," quoth he, as he joined his partner.
"I see that same stranger, who has been puzzling us all, has succeeded in making that poor fellow helplessly drunk," said Jacob Twig.
"Bad luck to him!" quoth I.
It appeared, that he had been much with him during the evening; and had been overheard making many minute enquiries regarding the tonnage of his vessel—the number of hands on board—and as to whether the Spaniards and their money had been landed or not; but as both were strangers, and the unknown had apparently a smattering of nautical knowledge, it seemed natural enough that they should draw up together, and no one seemed to think any thing of it.
It was now three o'clock in the morning, and high time to bid our worthy host adieu; so, after I had again apologized for my intrusion, Mr Twig, Flamingo, Captain Hause, and myself, withdrew, and took the road homewards to our quarters in the town.
Mr Jacob was leading the way as steady as a judge, for he seemed quite sober, so far as his locomotion was concerned; but Flamingo and I, who, I grieve to say it, were not quite the thing ourselves, had the greatest difficulty in lugging the skipper of the brig along with us; for, on the principle that the blind should lead the blind, Twig had coolly enough left him to our care, Bacchus had fairly conquered Neptune.
Whilst we were staggering along, under the influence of the rosy god and the weight of the skipper, who should spring past, in a fast run, apparently in red-hot haste, but the mysterious Mr Wilson!
"Hillo, my fine fellow," quoth Twig, "whither so swiftly? Slacken your pace, man, and be compani-o-n-a-ble."
I now perceived that Twig's legs were the discreetest of his members, and more to be relied on than his tongue; his potations having considerably interfered with his usually clear enunciation. The person hailed neither shortened sail nor answered him.
"Why, Mr Twig," shouted I, "if you don't heave to, we must cast off Mr Hause here. I believe he is in an apoplexy, he is so deadly heavy."
"Here, Mr Brail—here—bring him along," quoth Twig, returning from the front, and laying hold of the navigator wheelbarrow fashion, placing himself between his legs, while Flamingo and I had each a hold of an arm. As for the head, we left it to take care of itself, as it bumped on the hard path at every step, demolishing, no doubt, thousands of sand-flies at every lollop. We staggered down the zigzag road, until we came to an opening in the lime fence, through which we turned sharp off into the fields, led by Massa Twig. Here, wading through wet guinea-grass up to our hip-joints, which drenched us in a moment to the skin, we arrived at a small rocky knoll under an orange-tree, where we deposited the drunk man on his back, and then, with all the tipsy gravity in the world, sat ourselves down beside him.
We were now planted on a limestone pinnacle of the bluff, on which the house stood, from the fissures of which grew a most superb orange-tree that overshadowed us. Our perch commanded a view to seaward, as well as of the harbour, that slept under our feet in the moonlight. As soon as we came to an anchor, Flamingo ascended the tree, which was loaded with golden fruit, and sparkling with fireflies.
"Nothing like an orange with the dew on it," quoth he, stretching to reach a bunch, when he missed his footing, and shook down a whole volley of oranges, and a shower of heavy dew.
"Confound you, Felix," quoth Jacob Twig, who received a copious showerbath in his neck, as he stooped his head, busying himself in an unavailing attempt to strike fire with his pocket-flint and steel, in order to light his cigar, "what do you mean by that?"
"A volley of grapeshot from the felucca," stuttered the skipper, on whose face Flamingo had again dropped a whole hatful of fruit, sending down along with them another fall of diamonds.
"Now, don't be so pluviose, Flamingo," again sung out Twig; "come down out of that tree, Felix, or I'll shy this stone at you, as I am a gentleman."
"An't I a very pretty peacock, Jacob?" quoth his troublesome friend. "But stop, Iwillcome down"—seeing Twig preparing to make his threat good—"so keep your temper, man, and haul Tarrybreeks nearer the root of the tree, that I may fall soft."
"I say, Flamingo," quoth Twig, "you don't mean to make a featherbed of the navigator's carcass, do you?"
Crash at this moment went the bough on which our friend had trusted himself, and down he came, tearing his way through the strong thorns of the tree, right upon us. However, his fall was so much broken by the other branches, that there was no great harm done, if we except the scratches that he himself received, and a rent or two in his clothes.
"Murder, how I am scratched and torn, to be sure—why, see, my clothes are all in tatters absolutely," with a long drawl.
"Serve you right, you troublesome animal," quoth Twig; "but sit down, and be quiet if you can. Look, have you no poetry in you, Felix? Is not that scene worth looking at?"
The black bank of clouds that had slid down the western sky, and had floated for some time above the horizon, now sank behind the hills, above whose dark outline the setting moon was lingering.
The pale clear luminary still cast a long stream of light on the quiet waters of the bay, which were crisping and twinkling in the land-breeze; and the wet roofs of the houses of the town beneath, whose dark masses threw their long shadows towards us, glanced in her departing beams like sheets of polished silver. The grass and bushes beside us were sparkling with dewdrops, and spangled with fireflies. The black silent hulls of the vessels at anchor floated motionless on the bosom of the calm waters; the Ballahoo being conspicuous from her low hull and tall spars. The lantern that had been hoisted to guide the skipper on his return still burned like a small red spark at the gaff end.
There were one or two lights sparkling and disappearing in the lattices of the houses on the bay, as if the inmates were already bestirring themselves, early as it was.
The moon was just disappearing, when a canoe, pulling four oars, with one solitary figure in the stern, dashed across her wake, and pushed out to sea.
We distinctly heard the hollow voices of the men, and the rumble of the rollocks, and the cheeping and splashing of the broad bladed paddles. I looked with all my eyes. "A doubloon, if you pull to please me," said a voice distinctly from the boat.
"That chap must be in a deuced hurry, whoever he may be," quoth Jacob Twig.
"It's more than you seem to be, my boy," rejoined Master Felix, "You seem to be inclined to sit here all night; so I'll e'en stump along to my lodgings, at Sally Frenche's, and leave you and the skipperal frescohere, to rise when it pleases you. Come, Mr Brail, will you go, or shall I send you out a nightcap and a boat-cloak?"
"Oh we shall all go together," said I; "only let us take another look at that most beautiful sky."
The moon had now disappeared behind the distant mountains, leaving their dark outlines sharply cut out against the clear greenish light of the western sky. They looked like the shore to some mysteriously transparent, self-luminous, but deadly calm ocean. Several shreds of vapour floated in this mild radiance, like small icebergs in the north sea, during the long twilight night, while the sun is circling round just below the horizon; while to windward[2] the fast reddening sky, and the rise of the morning star, gave token of the near approach of day.
[2] Once for all. In the West Indies, from the sea-breeze, or trade-winds, always blowing from the east, objects or places are universally indicated, even during a temporary calm, as being situatedto windwardorto leeward, according as they are to theeastwardorwestwardof the speaker.
We got home, and tumbled into bed, and it was two o'clock in the afternoon before I rose to breakfast.
The sea-breeze was by this time blowing strong, almost half a gale of wind, making the shingles of the roof clatter like watchmen's rattles, and whistling through the house like a tornado.
I had just risen, and taken my razors out of my desk, which lay open on the dressing-table, when the wooden-blinds of the window fell down with a loud bang, from the dropping out of the pin that held them shut, and away went the letters and papers it contained, scattered by the reckless breeze east, west, north, and south; some flying up to the roof, others sticking against the walls far above my ken, as resolutely as if they had been pasted on by little Waddington the billsticker himself; while, by a sort of eddy wind, several were whisked away out of the door (that at the moment was opened by a negro boy with my coat in one hand, a beautiful pine-apple on a plate in the other, and a tin shaving-jugfull of boiling water on his head), and disappeared amongst the branches of a large umbrageous kennip-tree, that overshadowed the back-yard, to be worked up in due time into bird's nests.
"There they go," cried I. "Why,—Sally, cousin Sally!"—she was bustling about her domestic matters—"see all my letters flying about the yard there; send some of the small fry to catch them."
I continued my shaving, until another puff whipped up the piece of paper I had been wiping my razor on, charged as it was with soap-suds, and there it ascended spirally in a tiny whirlwind, until it reached the roof, where, thinking it would stick to the rafters, after being tired of its gyrations, the room being unceiled, I shouted to Sally to bring me one of the vagrant papers to supply its place; but, as I peeped through the blinds to observe how she came on, I felt something settle down as gently as a snow-flake on the crown of my head. "Do try and secure mylove-letters, cousin."
"Love-letter, dem?" quoth Sally, jumping up at the words, "La, Massa Benjamin, how you no say so before—love-letter—I tink dem was no more as shaving-paper."
"Shaving-paper? Oh no, all my shaving-paper is sticking to the crown of my head, Sally; see here," stooping down to show her the patch on my skull.
Sally was now all energy. "Shomp, Teemoty, Peeta, up de tree, you willains, and fetch me all dese piece of paper, dem—shomp;" and the fugitive pieces were soon secured.
When Sally, honest lady, entered with the papers, the soapy scalp still adhered to my caput. She first looked in my face, being a sort of quiz in her way, and then at it. "Dat is new fashion, Massa Benjamin. When gentlemen shave demself in England now-a-day, do dey wipe de razor on crone of dem head?"
"Assuredly they do," said I; "the universal custom, Sally, every man or woman,willy nilly, must wipe their razors, henceforth and for ever, on pieces of paper stuck on the crown of their heads. There is an act of Parliament for it."
"My gracious!"
"Ay, you may say that,"
And exit Sally Frenche to her household cares once more.
I had now time to give a little attention to the scenery of the yard, where Cousin Sally reigned supreme.
Three sides of the square (the house composing the fourth) were occupied by ranges of low wooden huts, containing kitchen and washing-houses, rooms for the domestic negroes, and a long open shed, fronting my window, for a stable. There was a draw-well in the centre, round which numberless fowls, turkeys, geese, ducks, guinea-birds, and pigeons,flaffed, and gobbled, and quacked; while several pigs were grunting and squeaking about the cookroom door, from whence a black hand, armed with an iron ladle, protruded every now and then, to give grumphy, when too intrusive, a good crack over the skull.
Below the large kennip-tree already mentioned, sat Sally Frenche, enthroned in state, in a low wicker chair, with a small table beside her, on which lay an instrument of punishment, ycleped a cowskin, a long twisted thong of leather, with a short lash of whipcord at the end of it. She was nothing loth, I saw, to apply this to the shoulders of her handmaidens when they appeared behind hand, or sluggish in their obedience; and even the free brownies of her household were not always exempt from a taste thereof.
Two nice showily-dressed negresses were speaking to her. They each balanced a large wooden bowl on their heads, full of handkerchiefs, gown-pieces, and beads, and appeared to be taking their instructions as to the prices they were to ask during the day's sale. They departed—when a black fellow, naked all to his trowsers, with a long clear knife in his hand, approached, and also took some orders that I could not hear, but apparently they had been the death-warrant of a poor little pig, which he immediately clapper-clawed; and, like a spider bolting with a fly, disappeared with it, squeaking like fury, into his den—the kitchen.
There were several little naked negro children running about Mrs Sally, but the objects of her immediate attention were a brown male child, of about eight years old, and two little mulatto girls, a year or two his seniors apparently. The children had their primers in their hands, and Sally held an open book in one of hers.
The girls appeared, with the aptness of their sex, to have said their lessons to her satisfaction, but the little cock-yellowhammer seemed a dull concern; and as I looked, she gave him a smart switch over his broadest end with her cowskin.
"Try again, you stupidblack-head"—(his head was black enough certainly)—"now mind—what doz you do wid your eyes?"
"I sees wid dem."
"You is right for one time—what doz you do wid your yees?"—(ears.)
"I hears wid dem."
"Bery well—you sees you is not so stupid when you attends—you only lazy—so now—what doz you do wid your foots?"
"Walks wid dem."
"Bery well, indeed—now mind again—what doz you do wid your nose?"
This was a puzzler apparently—the poor little yellowhammer scratched his head, and eke his behind, and looked into the tree, and all manner of ways, when seeing Mammy Sally's fingers creeping along the table towards the cowskin,—he rapped out,
"Ipickshim."
"Pickshim, sir!—pickshim!"—shouted Sally threatening him.
"No"—blubbered the poor boy—"no, mammy—no, Iblowshim sometimes."
"You nassy snattary little willain—what is dat you say—yousmellswid him, sir—yousmellswid him." Another whack across his nether end, and a yell from yellowhammer.—"Now, sir, what you doz wid your mout?"
"Nyam plawn."[3]
[3] Creole for "eat plantain."
"Bery well—dat is not so far wrong—you doesnyam plawnwid him—but next time be more genteel, and say—you eats wid him. Now, sir—read your catechism, sir—begin—Mammy Juba—de toad of a boy—if him no hab de wrong side of de book turn up—ah ha—massa—you don't know de difference between de tap from de battam of de book yet?—Let me see if I can find out de difference between, for you own tap and battam."
Whack, whack, whack—and away ran the poor little fellow, followed by the two girls, so contagious was his fear; and off started the wrathful Sally after them, through the flock of living creatures; until she stumbled and fell over a stout porker; on which a turkey-cock, taking the intrusion in bad part, began stoutly to dig at Sally's face with his heels, and peck at her eyes with his beak, hobble-gobbling all the time most furiously; in which praiseworthy endeavour he was seconded by two ducks and a clucking-hen, one of whose chickens had come to an untimely end through poor Sally'sfaux-pas; while the original stumblingblock, the pig, kept poking and snoking at the fallen fair one, as if he had possessed a curiosity to know the colour of her garters. This gave little yellowhammer an opportunity of picking up the cowskin, that had dropped in the row, and of slyly dropping it into the draw-well, to the great improvement, no doubt, of the future flavour of the water.
At length Sally gathered herself up, and seeing that there was no chance of catching the urchins, who were peeping in at the back-door of the yard, that opened into the lane, she made a merit of necessity, and called out,
"So, go play now—go play,"—and away the scholars ran, and Cousin Sally returned to the house.
I was sitting at breakfast, and the gig I had ordered was already at the door, when the captain of the Ballahoo, who had been put to bed in the house, joined me. He looked rather sheepish, as if a dim recollection of the figure he had cut over night had been haunting him. Just as we had finished our meal, and I was about saying good-by to him, I found I had forgotten two boxes of cigars on board the Ballahoo; and as none of the servants of the house were at hand, I accepted his offer to go on board with him, in a canoe for them. So desiring the boy in charge of the gig to wait—that I would be backinstanter—we sallied forth, and proceeded to the wharf, and embarked in the first shore-canoe we came to. There were three West-Indiamen taking in their cargoes close to the wharf, with their topmasts struck, and otherwise dismantled, and derricks up; and a large timbership, just arrived, whose sails were loosed to dry, was at anchor beyond them in the bay.
"Pull under the stern of that large ship with the sails loose; my brig is just beyond her," quoth Hause to the black canoe-man. "A fine burdensome craft that, sir."
"Very."
We were now rapidly approaching the large vessel—we shot past under her stern—when, lo!—there was no brig to be seen.
The captain, apparently bewildered, stared wildly about him—first this way, then that way, and in every direction—-then at a buoy, to which we had now made fast.—He turned round to me, while with one hand he grasped the buoy-rope—"As sure as there is a Heaven above us, sir—this is our buoy, and the brig is gone."
"Gone," said I, smiling, "where can she be gone?"
"That's more than I know;"—then, after a pause, during which he became as blue as indigo, "where is the Ballahoo?" gasped the poor fellow in a fluttering tone to the canoe-men, as if terrified to learn their answer.
"Where is the Ballahoo you say, massa!!"—echoed Quashie in great surprise, thathe, the master of her, should ask such a question.
"Yes—you black scoundrel,"—roared Hause, gathering breath, "whereis the Ballahoo?—this is her buoy, don't you see?"
"Where is de Ballahoo!!!"—again screamed the negroes, in a volley, in utter extremity of amazement at the enquiry beingseriouslyrepeated.
"Yes, you ragamuffins," quoth I, Benjie Brail, excited in my turn—"Whereisthe Ballahoo?"
Omnes.—"WHERE IS THE BALLAHOO?"
I was certainly extremely puzzled myself to conjecture what could have become of the brig—that she had vanished was certain—and as for poor Captain Hause, he was in a truly pitiable state; quite stunned with the suddenness and severity of the blow, so as to be altogether unable to think or act for himself—"Come, Hause, my lad," said I, encouragingly, "this won't do; rouse yourself, man, and let us see what's to be done." At this he slowly rose up in the canoe, rubbing his eyes, and pressing his forehead, as if he had awakened out of some horrid dream, the effects of which he was endeavouring to shake off; but the instant he was no longer in doubt as to the reality of his misfortune, he cast the slough of his despondency, and with terrific energy tore off his jacket and neckerchief, and dashing both into the water, along with his hat, threw himself headlong after them; being only prevented from accomplishing his purpose of self-destruction by my dragging him on board again by the leg, and then holding him in the canoe by main force.
"I say, my men,"—to the black canoemen—"pull to that big timber-ship, will ye?"
"Ay, ay, massa," rejoined the poor fellows; "only hold dat poor mad buccra hand—take care him don't get at we, please, massa—white somarry when him blod up, bad enough—but when buccra beside himself, for true and true—heigh, de devil, massa."
We soon got alongside of the Quebec ship. Several of the crew, in their dirty canvass trowsers, red flannel shirts, and night-caps, were standing at the gangway, apparently observing us.
"You are the mate of this ship?" said I to a good-looking young man, who was leaning over the side, neatly dressed in a blue jacket, check shirt, duck trowsers, and straw hat.
"I am, sir—can I be of any service to you?"
"I wish you would lend a hand to get this poor fellow up the side. He is very ill, you see; and if I try to take him ashore I am persuaded he will jump overboard. He has endeavoured to do so already."
"You need not be afraid of me, Mr Brail," here chimed in the poor skipper himself, as he seated himself in the stern sheets with forced composure. "It is over now, sir, and I am quite cool; but get up if you please, and I will follow you—you are quite right, sir, the people of this shipmaybe able to give us some information."
I clambered up the high side of the vessel, and was immediately followed by Hause and three of the negroes belonging to the canoe.
"I am sorry Captain Batten is not on board, gentlemen," quoth the mate; "but is there any thing I can do for you?"
My companion was still unable to speak for himself. He had sitten down on a carronade, resting his head on his hand, the very picture of despondency.
"Why, it is a strange story altogether," said I; "but did you notice when the brig, that anchored close to you yesterday afternoon, got under weigh this morning?"
"I did, sir. I was on deck at the time."
The captain lifted up his head at this for a moment, but presently fell back into his former state of apparent stupor.
"I noticed two boats," continued the mate, "I suppose from the shore, full of people, go to her from the other side of the bay, and smart chaps they were apparently—they loosed sails, and set them in regular man-of-war fashion, and all the time you could have heard a pin drop. I will do them or the crew the credit to say that I never saw a brig got under weigh more handsomely in my life. I had no conception they could have got the anchor up so speedily."
"Anchor up!" groaned Hause; "why,there—thereis the anchor, cable and all," pointing to the buoy. "The brig is run away with by some piratical rascals, sir," cried he, increasing his exclamation to a roar—"the cable has been slipped—oh, I am ruined, I am ruined—for ever ruined—the sweet little Ballahoo has been cut out by pirates—as sure as fate, the bloody pirates are off with her," and he burst into a passion of tears, and wept like the veriest child.
"I really cannot say," rejoined the mate of the timber-ship, most distressingly cool and composed; "but she was in sight within this half hour from the deck. Here, steward, hand me the captain's glass—I think I shall be able to make her out from the maintop still."
This seemed to rouse poor Hause, who had relapsed into his mute fit; and he was in the top in an instant. "Hand me up the glass, my good fellow," cried he impatiently to the mate, who was ascending the rigging leisurely, with the glass slung at his back by a leather strap—"the glass, if you please, the glass—here I see her down to leeward there—there, see—just over the Point." And the poor fellow took a long, anxious look towards the offing, steadying the telescope against one of the topmast shrouds, and speaking very quickly all the time, as I have seen one do in a fever, to the mate, who stood by him in the top.
"Well, captain," I sung out, "what do you see?"
He did not answer me; but the mate of the ship did. "He says he sees the brig, sir, standing under a crowd of sail to the northward and westward—two small craft, like coasters, in company."
"Ask him to take a good look at these last, will ye?"
A pause. "One is a schooner, he says, sir."
"And the other?"
"A felucca, sir."
"I thought so, by all that is unfortunate." And I turned away, walking aft very fast, when the mate's voice from the top, hailing the deck, evidently in great alarm, arrested me, and glued me to the planks.
"Johnstone, Johnstone!"—This was to one of the ship's people,—"come up here; come up into the top—quick, or he will be over!" And the next moment the telescope fell smash at my feet. I could see that Hause had cast himself down on the grating, and was grovelling convulsively on his face. At length, in his struggles, one of his legs hung over; and I thought he would have slipped through the mate's fingers, and been dashed to pieces by the fall. I looked up enquiringly.
"He's in a fit, sir," cried the mate.
"Well, well, seize him in the top, then—seize him in the top."
But it was unnecessary; the poor fellow got over this paroxysm also, to which the calmness of despair now finally succeeded, and presently he came down on deck.
"I will now give you no more trouble, Mr Brail, you may depend on it; I am in my right senses again, although ruined for ever; and all owing to my infernal folly in not sleeping on board."
"Well, my good fellow," said I, "I question very strongly if yoursleepingon board would have made the smallest difference, at least in your favour.Ifshe has been forcibly carried off,—and I am sorry to say it looks very like it,—the party must have been too strong to have allowedyourresistance to have been of any avail. In fact, the first thing they naturally would have done must have been either to have secured you below, or given you a more effectualquietus—you understand me. So nothing here is so bad, but it might have been worse. You are better as you are surely, than a prisoner; or, worse still, amongst the fishes in the bay?"
But I was cramming his ear against the stomach of his sense.
"Those on deck would not have been caught in this way had I been on board, take my word for it, sir."
"Probably not, probably not. But who does the brig belong to?"
"To myself, sir—entirely."
"And she was ensured?"
"Yes, fully; but since she had arrived, of course the underwriters are not liable for her having been cut out. Besides, sir, it will be made out a deviation, as we were bound for Kingston, and had no right to touch at Montego bay; although, God knows, we did all for the best."
"These are questions that I cannot well answer. As to the deviation, I fear you are right, although, as you say, you did it for the best; and if the underwriters be liberal-minded men, this should weigh with them, and I do hope they will settle. However, cheer up, man, and let us go and make our depositions before the authorities, and send off information of the event to the admiral at Kingston, and to your agent there, as well as to the outports; let us take all the chances of informing some of the squadron of the transaction. You are bound to take every measure likely to afford a chance of the recovery of the brig and property. But the poor Dons, have they been kidnapped as well as the crew?"
"All on dem—ebery one on dem carry go along wid dat terrible pirate willain," quoth one of the negro canoemen.
"Aye, Quashie," said I, for I had forgotten the blackies altogether, "what doyouknow about it?"
"I knows dis, massa—dat Jack, and Aby, and Pico dere, was all out fis wid me in de canoe dis wery marning, jost as de moon was setting, when one buccra hail we fram de beach—'Canoe, ahoy,' him say.—'Hillo,' say we."
"Very well, my good man, get on, get on."
"So me shall, massa; so him hail again, 'Canoe, ahoy,' him say—and 'Hillo,' say me, Bill, once more."
"So, and you took him on board?" said I.
"You had better give him his own way, sir, or you will never get to the end of his yarn," chimed in the mate of the timber ship. I saw he had a better knowledge of the negro character than I had, so I resolutely held my tongue. "Go on, then, Bill, since that is your name, get along your own way."
"So him hail, we de tird time—'Canoe, ahoy,' him say. I hope massa notice dat him sing out 'Canoe, ahoy,' for detirdtime—'Hillo,' say I for de tird time too—massa will mark I say 'Hillo,' for de tird time too."
"Yes, yes."
"Wery good. 'I wants a shove out to one wessel in de offing,' say de woice, for by dis time one cloud come over de moon, and we couldn't see nobody none at all—'We is fissing, and can't come,' say Pico."
"'Never mind your fissing—here is one golden hook for you—here is eight dollar for de put on board.'
"Ho, ho, now we understan, taught I,—'He, he, better more as fis whole night dis is,' say Jack. So we leave de lines, at one buoy, and pull for de beach, where we find one buccra tan up dere wid portmanteau on him shoulder, and all fine dress as if for one ball. He toss in de portmanteau widout any more palaver—wery heavy him was, for de same was break Pico shin."
"To be sure him do," said Pico, here showing where the black cuticle was flayed off the cucumber shank.
"'Now you see one wessel, wid white sail out yonder?' him say when him sit down in de starn sheet—'No,' say all we, 'we see noting,' and no more we did, massa.
"'Bery well—pull right out of de bay den—one doubloon if you pulls to please me,' say he."
I here looked at poor Hause—forgetting he had been helplessly drunk when the canoe passed us, as we sat below the orange-tree.
"Well, massa," continued the negro, "when we reach de offing de trange buccra tood up in de starn, take off him hat, and look all about—'dere,' say he, pointing wid him tretch out hand, 'dere dey are, you see dem now, pull for dat nearest wessel.'
"'Where, where, where?' Pico poke him head out into de dark night, and so do Jack, and so do Aby, and so do me—all tan up wid neck tretch over de gonwale like so much goose looking for de picaniny coming wid de Guinea corn. So, tink I, what good yeye dat buccra mos hab, for none of us yet no see noting; but, ha, ha, presently de moon give us one leetle shine, and, I see, I see."
"What the deuce did you see?" said I, losing all patience, and raising my hand threateningly—Quashie, thinking I was going to strike him, now tumbled out his words fast enough.
"I see one larsh ship well out in de offing—one leetle rogueish looking felucca close to, and one big topsail schooner between dis one and de larsh ship." Here, seeing it was a false alarm on my part, he relapsed into his former drawling verbosity. "Well, we pull for de smallest of de tree—see no one on deck but de man steering and two boy—de trange buccra shomp on board—'Now tank you, my lad,' him say quite shivel—'dere is de doubloon I promise—here, boy, give dem poor fellow a horn of grog a-piece.'—'Si Señor,' say de boy—fonny ting, I taught, for de boy to hanswer him in Panish—we drink de grog—'now shove off—good by—go home, and sleep,' said de trange buccra—but instead we come back to our nets, massa—before daybreak we come ashore, and when de captain dere engage de canoe, we taught it was for join de brig in de offing (for after we came back from sell our fis we hear she was gone), until we see she was too far out, and instead of being heave too, was bowl along six knots wid de first of de sea breeze."
"How came you to know Captain Hause was the master of the brig?" said I.
"Because I was in de pilot canoe dat was come aff to you yesterday—and it make me wery mosh surprise to see de captain expect to find de brig at anchor dis forenoon, for I never dream she could be go widout his leave. I was tink for true it was him send him off at gone-fire, becase I see, just before day broke, what I tink was two sore boat wid peoples, as if he had sent help to up de hanker cleverly—dat all I knows, massa—will buss de book pan dat." And I believe the poor fellow spoke the truth.
It was now evident beyond all shadow of doubt that the Ballahoo had been run away with by pirates, and it was equally clear that nothing could be done with any chance of success in the way of venturing to follow her in an unarmed craft.
As for poor Hause, it would have been downright cruelty if I had left him that forenoon. So I told Cousin Teemoty to put up the gig, as I found I should be unable to leave Montego bay that day at any rate; and I hurried to Sally Frenche's in order to write to the admiral an account of the transaction.
When I got there I found Mr Twig and his friend Mr Flamingo seated at a sumptuous breakfast. "Good morning, gentlemen—melancholy news for you this morning. This poor man's brig—the vessel I came in—has been run away with in the night by pirates."
"By pirates!" said Flamingo; "impossible, Mr Brail, you are joking surely. I would as soon believe that Jacob Twig there had been stolen in the night."
"And do you mean to say I should not have been worth the stealing, Felix?"
I assured them that it was a melancholy fact, and no jest, but neither would believe that there was any piracy in the affair—"Piracy—poo, poo, impossible—barratry of the crew—barratry to a certainty."
"No," quoth Hause; "I would trust the poor fellows with all that I am worth—Heaven knows that's little enough now. The mate is my own brother-in-law, and the second mate is my nephew, my own sister's son. No barratry, sir; no, no."
"Well, well," said I, "you have shown, gentlemen, a desire to oblige me already. I now will put you to the proof."
Here they laid down their coffee-cups and rose, wiping their muzzles with their napkins most resolutely.
"Say the word, Mr Brail," quoth both in a breath, with their mouths full, and munching away all the time—"how can we be of service?—with our persons or purses? We West Indians have such a slippery tenure in this country, that one does not much grudge perilling either," continued Jacob Twig.
"Thank you. All I want at present is, that you should have the goodness to put Mr Hause and me in the way of making our depositions before your chief magistrate."
"The custos of the parish?" quoth Twig. "Certainly—and fortunately he is here in Montego bay at this moment. He was at Roseapple's last night."
"I know where to find him," said Mr Flamingo, "He is always at old Jacob Munroe's store about this time, when at the bay. So,allons."
And in a twinkling we were on our way to lay our troubles before the great functionary, an extensive planter in the neighbourhood."
"Pray, where is Mr Turner, the gentleman from Falmouth, who brought that ominous Mr Wilson to the ball, to be found?" said I, as we stumped along, larding the lean earth, for it was cruelly hot.
"Well thought of," said Don Felix. "He lodges usually at Judy Wade's. Why, there he is inpropria persona, standing in the front piazza."
"How do you do, Turner? You will have heard the row on the bay?"
"Oh yes; but the Tom Bowline has been given up; she has not even been plundered, and is now working into the bay."
"No—no—not the Tom Bowline"——
"What, about the brig having been cut out? Oh yes; it has flown like wild-fire."
"Pray, is Mr Wilson still with you?"
"No, to my surprise (I will confess), he is not. It seems he came home before me from Roseapple's, packed his portmanteau, paid half of our joint bills, and bolted"——
"Honour amongst thieves," whispered Twig to me—
"But where he is gone I can't tell. Hedidintend to have started for Kingston to-day at one time, but last night he said he would put it off until to-morrow."
"There again," said I, looking at Jacob, who seemed to think it was his cue.
"He must be a bit of a rogue that same Wilson; so I hope he is no friend of yours, Turner,my dear fellow," quoth Twig—and here he told him of all that had occurred, and what we suspected.
Mr Turner, a most respectable man, was highly incensed at having been so grossly duped, and willingly accompanied us to the place where we expected to find the custos.
We were on our way, when the mate of the timber ship overtook us, running very fast.
"Gentlemen, piracy is not the worst of it—piracy is not the worst of it.There has been murder committed."
"Murder!" quoth Jacob Twig—"the deuce there has!"
"Murder!" quoth Don Felix—"worse, and more of it."
And, "murder!" quoth I Benjie. "Where, my good man?—and what proof?"
"Come with me, gentlemen," said the still breathless seaman. "The ship's boat, with Captain Batten himself in it, is lying at the wharf. Come with me, and you shall see yourselves that it is as I say."
We reached the wharf, and immediately pulled straight for the brig's buoy.
As we got between it and the sun, which was now declining in the west, we witnessed a very uncommon appearance.
The Ballahoo had let go her anchor in five fathoms water, so clear, and the sand at the bottom so white and free of weeds or rocks, that when we were about & cable's length distant from the anchor, it appeared from the refraction of the sun's rays, to be buoyed up, and to float on the surface of the gentle swell that rolled in from the offing—the shank, flukes, and stock twisting and twining, and the cable waving in its whole length, as if the solid anchor had been a living thing in the fangs of a gigantic watersnake. When we got right over the anchor, we saw a dark object, at about three fathoms to windward of it, of the size of a man's body, glimmering and changing its shape, from the jaugle of the water. At the request of the mate I shaded my eyes with my hands, and held my face close to the surface, when the indistinct appearance, as I looked steadily, settled itself into the figure of a sailor, floating, as near as I could judge, midway between the bottom and the surface; suspended in the water, as the fable alleges Mahomet's coffin to be in air.
"It has drifted," said the mate, "since I was here before, and is now much nearer the surface—see, see!"—and presently the dead corpse, as if some sudden chemical decomposition had taken place, sent up a number of bubbles, and then rose rapidly to the surface with a bob (if in so serious a matter one may use such an expression), where it floated with the breast bone and face flush with the surface of the swell, dip dipping, and driving out small concentric circles, that sparkled in the sun all round.The throat was cut from ear to ear.
"Great God," cried poor Hause, as he passed his arm round the neck of the dead body, and raised it out of the water—"my poor mate—my poor mate! Ay, ay—he would have the morning watch sure enough. A fearful watch has it been to him."
We carried the body to the wharf, and left it there, covered with a boatsail, and once more proceeded to wait on the custos.
The place we expected to meet him at was a sort of vendue store, the small open piazza of which, fronting the street, was lumbered with bales of Osnaburgs, open boxes of handkerchiefs, pieces of Irish linens, and several open barrels of mess beef, pork, pickled mackerel, herrings, and shads. We navigated through these shoals with some difficulty, and considerable danger to the integrity and purity of our coat skirts. At length we reached the interior.
There was a passage fronting us, that ran right through the house from front to rear, on each side of which were sparred partitions of unpainted pine boards, covered with flour and weevils, and hung with saddlery, mule harness, cattle chains, hoes, and a vast variety of other miscellaneous articles of common use on an estate.
Through the spars on the left hand side, I saw a person in a light-coloured jacket and trowsers, perched on the top of a tall mahogany tripod, at a small, dirty, hacked-and-hewn mahogany desk, with a pen behind his ear, his hands full of papers, and busy apparently with some accounts.
But there seemed to be a darksanctum-sanctorumbeyond him, of some kind or another, railed in separately, the partition festooned with dusty spider-webs, and raised several steps above the level of the floor. Here, in the obscurity, I could barely discern a little decrepit figure of a man, like a big parrot in a cage, dressed in a sort of dark-coloured night-gown and red night-cap.
We all sat down unconcernedly to wait for his honour, as if this had been some common lounge, or a sort of public coffee-house,—some on tops of barrels, others on bales or boxes; but neither of the two persons at the desks moved or took the smallest notice of us, as if they had been accustomed to people constantly going and coming.
"Where is your master?" said Twig at length to a negro that was tumbling goods about in the piazza.
"Dere him is," quoth Snowball—"dere in de contin hose;" indicating the direction by sticking out his chin, both paws being occupied at the time in rolling a tierce of beef.
"I say, Jacob Munroe," sung out Twig—"how are you, old boy? Nuzzling away in the old corner, I see."
"Hoo are ye? Hoo are ye the day, Mr Twig?" said a small husky voice from the sanctum.
I happened to sit a good deal farther back in the passage than the others of the party (fartherbenI believe they would call it in Scotland), and thus could hear the two quill drivers, who were evidently unaware of my being within earshot, communing with each other, while my companions did not.
"Saunders," quoth the oldest man from the sanctum, "hae ye coonted the saydels?"
"Yes, uncle, twice over, and there is still one amissing."
"Vara extraordinar," rejoined the small husky voice from the dark corner—"Vara extraordinar."—Then after a pause—"Hae ye closed aw the accoonts, Saunders?"
"No, sir."
"Whilk o' them are open yet?"
"Mr Wanderson's."
"Ane," said the voice.
"Jolliffe and Backhouse."
"Twa."
"Skinflint and Peasemeal."
"Three."
"His honour the custos."
"Four."
"And Gabriel Juniper."
"Ay, there's five o' them. Weel-a-weel, Saunders, we maunna lose the value of the saydel at no rate—sae just clap in, 'item,onesaydel' to ilk ane o' the five ye hae read aff the noo seriawtim—they'll no aw objeck—ane will surely stick—maybe mair."
I was a good deal amused with this, and while the others were inspecting some sets of harness, and the quality of several open boxes of soap, I could not resist drawing nearer, under the lee of the partition, to enjoy the fun of the thing. Presently Twig joined me.
The conscience of the younger of the two invisibles seemed to rebel somewhat at this national and characteristic method of balancing an account, and making gain of the loss of a saddle.
"Really, uncle,noneof these parties got the saddle, I am positively certain ofthat."
"It's no my fawt if they didna—we canna lose the saydel, Saunders; by no mainer of means."
"Oh, but, sir," persisted the other, "Mr Wanderson, for instance, a person you always speak so highly of!"
"Haud yere tongue, sir, and do as I bid ye—it'll no be charged againyereconscience, and yere no the keeper o' mine."
I was amazingly tickled at this.—After a pause, "Hae ye charged the saydels yet, Saunders?"
"Yes, sir," said the clerk, doggedly; "yes, all charged, and I'm just closing the accounts."
"Close nane o' the accounts—the devil's in the lad wi' his hurry—close nane o' the accounts, sir—so noo charge twa three odd things till each o' the five, just, to smoor the saydel, ye ken—what are ye glowering at?—do ye no understaun yere mither tongue?—to mak the charge less noticeable, ye gawmarel."
"Really, sir," said the younger of the two, "I have not the courage to do so unjust an action of myself."
"Haud yere tongue, and write what I dictate, then, sir—wha's first? Ay, Mr Wanderson. Let me see—an IHL hinge, a negro lock, and a bottle of blister flies, to Mr Wanderson. He's always giving poor people help and medicine, and he'll ne'er notice them. Wha's neist?"
"The custos, sir."
"Ay, the custos," said the voice; "a jovial chiel is his honour—so, so—just clap doon, item, twapawtentcorkscrews. He's no very muckle gien to payin', but ne'er mind—I'llscrewit out o' him in rum and plantains." And here the creature laughed an "eldritch laugh," sounding more likekeck, keck, keck, than any common cachinnation. "Wha's neist?"
"Jolliffe and Backhouse."
"Ay, braw English lads are they baith; leeberal chiels, and fond o' guid eating—clap a round o' Jew beef on the tap o'theirsaydel.—Keck, keck, keck. Wha's neist?"
"Skinflint and Peasemeal, sir."
"Bah—nasty Scotch bodies" (and what may you be, thought I); "and weel I wot I would be glad to saydel them—keck, keck—but they'll no be fitted that gate, I trow—they are owre gleg; sell them a loose, and if he wanted a leg or the fud—my certie, let abee findin' it oot, they wad plea it afore they payed it—sae pass them ower. But wait awee—I am loath to let Skinflint escape after aw. Hoo mony grunstanes did their cart ca' for the other day?"
"Two dozen, sir."
"Twa dizzen—twa dizzen grunstanes, did ye say?—herd ony mortal the like o' that—four-and-twenty grunstanes! What can they do wi' sae mony? they maun surely mack soup o' them, or feed their negers wi' them, or maybe they grind their noses on them, ay, that'll be it—keck, keck—Did you send an invoice wi' the cart, Saunders?"
"No, sir; the man went away without it."
"Vera weel."
"The cart upset on the way home, sir, and broke several of the stones, I hear."
"Better and better—mak thetwa dizzen three, Saunders; surely they'll no piece the broken anes thegither to check the tally—the extra dizzen will aboot balance a saydel, Saunders. So, if we canna fit them wi' a saydel, we'll tak a ride aff them bare-backed.—Keck, keck, keck. Wha's neist?"
"Gabriel Juniper, sir."
"Fashious, drucken neerdoweel—wash his saydel down wi' a gallon o' gin and twa o' brandy. He'll no be able to threep wi' me, for he's amaist aye drunk noo—sin' he couldna keep his ain saydel the last time I saw him on horseback, it's but richt he should pay for the lost ane—Keck, keck, keck. Noo, Saunders, ye're a decent lad, sae satisfy yere conscience, and mind ye gie up, in shape o' discoont, at the settlement, the amount o' aw thefictitiousitems,barringthe saydels and the grunstanes, though—mind that—barring the saydels and the grunstanes. Noo, soom up and close, ye deevil—soom up and close."
"Ah, custos," said Mr Turner, as the gentleman we were waiting for entered, "glad to see you, glad to see you." Here, having explained how matters stood, his honour retired with us into Jacob Munroe's back store.
"Well, namesake, how are you?" said Twig to the old man who owned the small voice, and who now emerged and became visible, as he crept before us and opened the door.
"Oo, fine, Maister Twig, fine—did ye fin' the accoonts against Roaring River and Hector's Folly estates aw correct, Mr Twig?"
"Yes, all correct, all correct; only you have charged me a saddle too many."
The old withered anatomy looked with a quizzical leer of his eye at him, as much as to say, "have you overheard me, master Twig?—but I am rich and don't care."
"Saunders," cried the old man, "I say, Saunders, bring the ink andaechair for the custos and the gentlemen," as if we all could have sat uponone; "and, Abrahaam," to one of the store negroes, "shool away that shell into a corner, and gie them room."
"Shell," said I, in some surprise; "why, is that great mass all tortoise-shell?"
"Atweel is it, young gentleman; at least it is the shell of the hawk's-bill turtle, which is the same thing. That's the last cargo of the Jenny Nettles, frae the Indian coast—she sould be up again aboot this time, if she be nacachtby they incarnate deevils o' peerates—but she's weel assured, she's weel assured. Why, Saunders!—whar the deevil are ye, Saunders?"
"Here, sir," said the young man whom I had seen at the desk, as he entered with writing materials in one hand, a chair for hisHonourin the other, and a Bible (as he naturally concluded that some depositions on oath were to be taken)in his teeth. I paid no particular attention to him until he startled me by suddenly dropping the chair on Twig's toes, exclaiming, as he caught the Bible in his hand, "Gude hae a care o' us, Mr Brail, is this you yeersell?"—And lo, who should stand before me, but our old friend Lennox.
"Why, old shipmate, how are you?—I am glad to see you; but I thought you had turned coffee-planter by this time?"
"And so I have, sir. My uncle there sends me up the end of every week to superintend his plantation in the mountains; but I am here for the most part of my time in the store, helping him. But where are you lodging, Mr Brail? I hope you will permit me to call on you; for I see you are likely to be engaged at present."
I told him where I staid, and in few words what the reader knows already regarding my Jamaica expectations and the cause of my visit; farther, that I was about leaving town, but that I would not fail having a chat with him soon, as I should no doubt be often at the bay.
The custos, after taking our depositions, wrote to the admiral at Port-Royal, and to correspondents of his at all the outports, with an outline of the circumstances, in case any of His Majesty's ships should be there; and in the mean time it was determined that poor Hause, after giving his underwriters in Kingston notice of his calamity, should remain at Montego bay until it was seen what should turn up. Here I must do old Jacob Munroe justice. Before the meeting broke up, he in our presence invited him to stay in his house as long as it suited him. Lennox, seeing I was surprised at this, whispered in my ear, that, "Snell as his uncle was in business matters, the auld-farrant body had a warm heart still to a fellow-creature in distress."
"Come along, Mr Brail," said Flamingo—"as we cannot make a start of it this evening now, let us adjourn to our friend Sally's, and see what entertainment she can provide for us; and then hey for Ballywindle at daybreak to-morrow."
However, our troubles were not over for that day; for we had not proceeded fifty yards on our way to our lodgings, when an ugly bloated drunken-looking white man, with great flabby yellow cheeks, that shook as he walked like flannel-bags full of jelly, and in a most profuse perspiration, driven forth, I make no doubt, by a glorious rummer of grog, came up to us, and touched both of us on the shoulder—most people are rather sensitive regarding a touch thereabouts, so we faced suddenly round.
"I warn you bote, gentlemen, to attend one coroner's inquest at Jacob Munroe's wharf."
"The deuce you do?" said I. "Pray, what authority have you for this, my fine fellow?"
"De coroner's warrant, sir," producing it.
"Oh, we are nailed, Mr Brail," quoth Don Felix. "Crowner's Quest law is not to be disputed—no use in kicking. So pray, my good man, do you want any more jurors?"
"Indeed I do, sare. You are de first I have warn as yet."
"Oh, then, do you see that red-faced gentleman coming round the corner there?"
"Yesh, I do," said the man.
"Then bone himinstanter, or he will bolt." This was no less a personage than Jacob Twig again. The man on this made a detour, and took our friend in flank, but the moment Jacob saw him he seemed to suspect his object, and began to walk down the street very fast, followed by the constable. There was a narrow turning to the right, near to where we stood, that led amongst a nest ofnannyhouses, as they are called, inhabited by brown free people, which was quite closed up by a party washing clothes and a girl milking a cow beyond them. How Jacob was to escape, if his evil genius should prompt him to try this channel, I could not conceive. As yet his sense of propriety had only allowed him to get into a very fast walk. Shamming deafness, however, all the while, to the reiterated shouts of the constable, to "stand in de Kin's name;" but the moment he opened the lane, off he started, with the long skirts of his frogged coat streaming in the wind, and his little glazed hat blazing in the sun like a meteor, or the steel headpiece of one of Bonaparte's cuirassiers.
There was an old woman stooping down over her tub, right fronting him, that is, facing him in an Irish fashion, for she looked t'other way from him, and two younger ones, similarly employed on each side of her. How he was to clear them and their tubs, and the cow beyond, was the puzzle, as the projecting eaves of the two lines of small houses, whose inmates were thus employed, nearly met overhead. However, we were not left long in suspense. Massa Twig now quickened his pace, and clapping his hands on the old lady's shoulders, cleared her and her tub cleverly by a regular leap-frog,tippingthe heads of the two young women on each flank with his toes, and alighted at the feet of the girl who was milking the cow, which had not time to start before he followed up the fun by vaulting on her back; and then charged down the lane through the tubs and over the prostrate constable, passing us like a whirlwind, the quadruped funking up her heels, and tossing the dry sand with her horns, as ifstartledby a myriad of gad-flies. Both Flamingo and I strained our eyes to follow him, as he flew along like smoke, careering down the lane that ended in the sea.
"Why don't he throw himself off?" said I; "the frantic brute is making straight for the water—it will drown him if he don't."
"Jump off, man—jump off," roared Don Felix. But in vain; for the next moment there was Jacob Twig of the Dream, in St Thomas in the East, flashing and splashing in the sea, cow and all, an Irish illustration of the fable of Europa. Presently both biped and quadruped were in deep water, when they parted company, and all that we could see was a glazed hat and a red face, and a redder face and a pair of horns, making for the shore again as fast as they could.
"Now, Twig is cheap of that," quoth Flamingo. "He is always aiming at something out of the way, and certainly he has accomplished it this time; but, see, there are people about him, so he is safe."
However, we were boned, and could not escape, so having lost sight of him, we waited until the poor constable, a German, had gathered himself up and joined us.—"And now, Master Constable, lead the way, if you please."
"Who is dat mans, as is mad?" quoth he, as soon as he could speak.
"Mr Purvis of Tantallon, near Lacovia," said Flamingo, as grave as a judge.
"What a thumper," thought I Benjie.
We arrived at the wharf, when the coroner immediately impanelled the jury, and we proceeded to view the body of the poor fellow who had been murdered. It was lying on the wharf, covered with the sail as we had left it; from under which, notwithstanding the short time it had been exposed, thick fetid decomposed matter crept in several horrible streams, and dripped into the clear green sea beneath, through the seams of the planking, where the curdling blue drops were eagerly gobbled up by a shoal of small fish; while a myriad of large blue-bottles rose with a loud hum from the cloth, as it was removed on our approach, but only to settle down the next moment more thickly than before, on the ghastly spectacle.—Bah.—Even in the short period that the body had been in the water, the features were nearly obliterated, and the hands much gnawed; three of the fingers were gone entirely from the left. The windpipe and gullet were both severed with a horrible gash, and there was a deep bruised indentation across the forehead, as if from the heavy blow of a crowbar, or some other blunt weapon. There was no doubt on earth but that the poor fellow had been surprised and met his death by violence, and so suddenly that he could not give the alarm; so a verdict was accordingly returned of "wilful murder, against a person or persons unknown."
By the time we returned to our lodgings we found Massa Twig fresh rigged after his exertions, and as full of frolic and oddity as ever.
"Did you ever see a female bull so well actioned before, Felix?" said he.
"Never," replied his friend,—"took the water like a spaniel too—must be accustomed to the sea—an Alderney cow, I suppose, Twig, eh?"
This evening passed on without any thing further occurring worth recording.
Next morning, Lennox came to see me off, and gave me all his news. I was exceedingly glad to learn that the poor fellow was so happily situated, and promised to call on him the first time I came to the bay.
While lounging about the piazza before breakfast, I noticed our friend Quacco busily employed cleaning a fowling-piece.
"Whose gun is that, Quacco?"
"Massa Flamingo's, sir."
"Let me see it—a nice handy affair—Purdy, I perceive—comes to my shoulder very readily, beautifully."
"Wery clever leetle gone, for sartain, massa; but all de caps dem spoil, sir. See de powder—percossion dem call—quite moist, and useless." By this time he had fitted on one of the copper caps, and snapped the piece, but it was dumb. "I am going to fill de caps wid fresh powder, massa; but really dis percossion powder too lively, massa—only see"—and he gave a few grains of it a small tip with the shank of the bullet mould, when it instantly flashed up.
"Master Quacco," said I, "mind your hand; that is dangerous stuff. Tell Mr Flamingo to be wary also, or he will be shooting people, for it is wrong mixed, I am certain."
"Wery trang, wery trang for sartain, massa—but no fear in my hand—for I is armourer, as well as waiting gentleman—oh, ebery ting is I Quacco."
"Confound your self-conceit."
Here Flamingo and Twig came in.
"Good morning, Mr Brail."
"Good morning."
"All ready for the start, I see," said Twig. "Why, Felix, what is Mr Brail's man doing with your gun?"
"Cleaning it, and filling these caps anew with fresh percussion powder: the old has mildewed, or got damp, he tells me. Indeed, the last time I shot, it was not one in three that exploded."
"Mind how you play with those caps," said I; but before I could proceed——
"Sally, make haste and get breakfast," bawled Twig. "Do you hear?"
"Yes, massa," squeaked Sal from the profundities of the back premises.
"Why, Felix," continued our friend, "there has been another burglary last night: Myspleuchan, as Rory Macgregor calls it, has been ravished of its treasures."
"How poetical you are this morning!—mounted on your Pegasus, I see," rejoined Felix.
"Better that than the horned animal that led me such a dance yesterday," quoth his friend, laughing. "But, joking apart, your man Twister must have mistaken my tobacco for his own: He has emptied my tobacco-pouch, as sure as fate, for none of my own peopleeatit; and the fellow has always that capacious hole in his ugly phiz filled with it—with my prime patent chewing tobacco, as I am a gentleman."
"Really," said Felix, who detested tobacco in all shapes, as I learned afterwards, with an accent conveying as clearly as if he had said it—"I am deuced glad to hear it." Then, "Confound it, are we never to get breakfast? But when did you miss it, Jacob?"
"Why, when we got out to ride over Mount Diablo, at the time the boys were leading the gig-horses;—don't you recollect that I had to borrow Twister's spurs, as Dare-devil always requires a persuader when a donkey is in the path, and there were half-a-dozen, you know? So, stooping to adjust them, out tumbled my spleuchan, it appears. I did not know it at the time, indeed not until we were getting into the gig again, when Twister handed the pouch, that was so well filled when it dropped, as lank and empty as your own carcass, Flam."
"Poo, poo! what does it signify?" said his ally. "A fair exchange, Twig—tobacco for spurs, you know—a simplequid pro quo."
"Shame!" said Jacob; "I thought you were above picking up such crumbs, Felix. But here is breakfast—so, come."
We finished it; and as we were getting ready, I noticed Quacco and Massa Twig in earnest confabulation, both apparently like to split with suppressed laughter. At some of the latter's suggestions, our sable ally absolutely doubled himself up, while the tears were running over his cheeks. Immediately afterwards, Quacco began to busy himself, boring some of the small hard seeds of the sand-box tree with his pricker, and filling them with something; and then to poke and pare some pieces of Jacob's patent flake tobacco with a knife, stuffing it into the latter's tobacco-pouch. However, I paid no more attention to them, and we started; my cousin Teemoty driving me in a chartered gig.