The lover who is beloved need never fear disappointment. True to her
tryst, and punctual to the time, did the expected sweetheart make her
appearance within the glade.
With shy but graceful mien, she advanced towards the _ceiba_, and with
sufficient firmness of step to show that she came not in doubt. A
smile, confident and slightly coquettish, dancing in her dark eyes, and
playing upon her prettily-curved lips, told of a love already plighted--
at the same time betokening full faith in the vows that had been
exchanged.
Cubina stepped forth to receive her; and the lovers met in the open
ground, at some distance from the tree. Their demeanour at meeting told
that it was not their first assignation; but that ofttimes before had
they been together in that same rendezvous.
The presence of the runaway--not seen, however, from the spot--did not
hinder Cubina from saluting his sweetheart with a kiss, nor prevent him
from folding her for a short moment in his arms.
That spasm of exquisite pleasure passed, the dialogue began.
The girl spoke first.
"Oh, Cubina! news I have tell."
"Come, my love--what news? Ah! you are looking grave, Yola; your news
is not very joyful, I fear?"
"No, not joyful--bad news."
"Let me hear them, love. Something Cynthy has been saying to you? You
shouldn't heed what that girl says."
"No, Cubina, I no care what her me tell. I her know, wicked, bad girl.
Not Cynthy say that thing me trouble now. Missa Kate me tell."
"Ah! something Miss Vaughan has told you? I wouldn't look for bad news
from her. But what is it, dear Yola? Maybe, after all, it's nothing?"
"Ah! yes, Cubina, something. I fear me keep from you long, long time."
"Keep you from me! Surely Miss Vaughan don't object to your meeting
me?"
"No--not that. Something I fear me hinder from be--."
"Be what?" inquired the lover, seeing that his sweetheart hesitated to
pronounce some word, the thought of which was causing her to blush.
"Come, dear Yola, don't fear to tell _me_. You know we're engaged.
There should be no secret between us. What were you going to say?"
In a low, murmured voice, and looking lovingly in his eyes as she spoke,
the girl pronounced the word "marry."
"Ho! ho!" exclaimed the lover, in a confident tone. "I think nothing
can occur to hinder that--at least, for a very long time. I have now
nearly a hundred pounds laid by, and a lucky capture I've just made this
morning will help still further to make up that sum. Surely the Custos
will not require more than a hundred pounds; though if you were once
mine," continued the speaker, casting a look of smiling fondness upon
his sweetheart's face, "all the money in the world wouldn't tempt me to
part with you. I hope," added he, speaking in a jocular air, "a hundred
pounds will be enough to make you _my slave_?"
"You slave, Cubina?"
"Yes, Yola, as I am yours now."
"Ah--that way, Yola yours; yours ever--evermore."
"I will believe you, dear girl," rejoined the lover, gazing, with a
gratified look, in the face of his beloved. "I am very happy to think
that in that way you are mine; and that I have, as you assure me, your
heart and soul. But, dearest Yola, so long as another is the owner of
your body--not with the right, but the powder to do, ay--indeed, almost
as he might please--for who can hinder these proud planters from
committing crimes of which they are their own judges? Ah! Yola, girl,
it is fearful to reflect on their wicked doings. This very morning I
have come across a sample of their cruelty; and when I think of you
being in the power of one, it makes me feel as if every hour was a day
until I can obtain your freedom. I am always in fear lest something may
happen to hinder me.
"Just to-day I am in high hopes," continued the lover, evincing the
truth of his words by a pleasant smile. "I have succeeded in raising
nearly the hundred pounds; and the bounty I expect to receive for the
runaway I have caught will make it quite that."
The girl returned no reply to this speech of her lover, but stood gazing
upon him silently, and as if half reproachfully. Something of this kind
he read, or fancied he read, in her looks.
"What, Yola, you are not satisfied with what I have said? You reproach
me? Ah! true. I confess it is not a very creditable way of procuring
your purchase-money. _Maldito_! what can I do? We Maroons have no
other way of raising money, except by hunting the wild hogs, and selling
their barbecued flesh. But that barely gives us a living. _Crambo_! I
could never have got together a hundred pounds in that way. So do not
reproach me, dear Yola, for what I've done. I assure you it goes
against my grain, this man-hunting business. As for the young fellow I
caught this morning, I'd risk a good real rather than give him up--if it
wasn't for the purpose of procuring your freedom. For that I must have
the hundred pounds, which it is to be hoped will be enough to satisfy
your master."
"All, Cubina!" replied his slave-love, with a sigh, "that the bad news I
you bring. Hundred pound no more enough. Only two days go, he have him
offer twice so much for poor slave Yola."
"Two hundred pounds offered for _you_!" exclaimed the Maroon, with a
start of surprise, his brow becoming suddenly clouded. "Is that what
you mean, Yola?"
"Ah, yes!" answered the slave, repeating her sad sigh.
"And who--who is he?" demanded the lover, in a quick earnest tone, at
the same time that a gleam of jealous thought flashed from his dark
eyes, like forked lightning across a clouded sky.
He knew that no man would have bid two hundred pounds for a slave--even
for Yola--without some wicked motive. The girl's beauty, combined with
the extravagant offer, would have suggested the motive to one
disinterested in her fate. How much more was it calculated to arouse
the suspicions of a lover!
"A white man," continued he, without waiting for the reply to his first
question. "I need not ask that. But tell me, Yola, who is he that's so
desirous of becoming your owner. You know, I suppose."
"Missa Kate me tell all. He Jew--wicked white man! Same who me take
from big ship; and me first sell Massa Vaughan."
"Ha!" sharply ejaculated the lover, "that old wretch it is? Wicked
white man you may well call him. I know the old villain well.
_Crambo_! what can he want with her?" muttered the Maroon, musingly, but
with a troubled mien. "Some vile purpose, to a certainty? Oh, sure!"
Then once more addressing himself to his slave sweetheart--
"You are certain, Yola, the old Jew made this offer?"
"So me say young missa."
"Two hundred pounds! And Mr Vaughan refused it?"
"Missa Kate no allow Massa Vaughan me sell. She say `Never!' Ah! young
missa! she good for say so! No matter what money he give, she never let
wicked white man buy Yola. She so say many time."
"Miss Kate said this? Then she is good, she is generous! It must have
been her doing, else the Custos would never have refused such a tempting
offer. Two hundred pounds! It is a large sum. Well, I must begin
again. I must work night and day to get it. And then, if they should
refuse _me_! Ha! what then?"
The speaker paused, not as if expecting a reply from her who stood by
his side, but rather from his own thoughts.
"Never mind!" continued he, his countenance assuming an expression
partly hopeful, partly reckless. "Have no fear of the future, Yola.
Worst come worst, you shall yet be mine. Ay, dearest, you shall share
my mountain home, though I may have to make it the home of an outlaw!"
"Oh!" exclaimed the young girl, slightly frayed by the wild look and
words of her lover, her _eye_ at the same instant falling upon the red
pool where the hounds had been slain. "Blood, Cubina?"
"Only that of some animals--a wild boar and two dogs--just killed there.
Don't let that frighten you, pet. You must be brave, my Yola; since
you are to be the wife of a Maroon! Ours is a life of many dangers."
"With you Yola no fear. She go any where--far over the mountains--to
Jumbe Rock--anywhere you her take, Cubina."
"Thanks, dearest! Maybe, some day, we may be forced to go far over the
mountains--in _flight, too_, Yola. But we shall try to avoid that. If
your master will only act right, there will be no need. If not, then
you will fly with me--will you not?"
"What Cubina do, Yola do same; where he go, she go."
The passionate promise was sealed by a kiss, followed by an interval of
sacred silence.
"Enough, then!" said the lover, after the pause had passed. "As a last
resource, we can do that. But we shall hope for the best; and, maybe,
some good fortune may befall. My followers are true, and would help me;
but, alas! all are poor hunters, like myself. Well, it may take some
time before I can call you my own fearlessly, in the face of the world--
longer, maybe, than I expected. Never mind for that; we can meet often.
And now, dear Yola, listen to what I am going to say to you--listen,
and keep it in your mind! If ever a white man insults you--you know
what I mean?--if you are in danger of such a thing--as you would have
been, were old Jessuron to become your master--ay, and who knows how,
where, or when?--well, then, fly to this glade, and wait here for me.
If I do not come, some one will. Every day I shall send one of my
people to this place. Don't fear to run away. Though I may not care to
get into trouble about a common slave, I shall risk all to protect you--
yes, my life, dearest Yola!"
"Oh, Cubina!" exclaimed the girl, in passionate admiration. "Oh, brave,
beauty Cubina! you not fear danger?"
"There is no great danger in it," returned the Maroon, in a confident
tone. "If I had made up my mind to run away with you, I could soon take
you beyond the reach of pursuit. In the _Black Grounds_ we could live
without fear of the tyranny of white men. But I don't want to be hunted
like a wild hog. I would rather you should become mine by honest
means--that is, I would rather buy you, as I intend to do; and then we
may settle down near the plantations, and live without apprehension.
Perhaps, after all, the Custos may not be so hard with me as with the
old Jew--who knows? Your young mistress is kind, you have told me: she
may do something to favour our plans."
"True, Cubina--she me love; she say never me part."
"That is well; she means, she would not part with you against your will.
But if I offer to buy you, it would be a different thing. Perhaps you
might let her know all, after a while. But I have something to learn
first, and I don't wish you to tell her till then. So keep our secret,
dear Yola, for a little longer.
"And now," continued the Maroon, changing his tone, and turning towards
the _ceiba_ as he spoke, "I've got something to show you. Did you ever
see a runaway?"
"Runaway!" said the girl; "no, Cubina--never."
"Well, my love, there's one not far off; he that I said I had captured
this morning--only a little while ago. And I'll tell you why I've kept
him here: because I fancied that he was like yourself, Yola."
"Like me?"
"Yes; and that is why I felt for the poor fellow something like pity:
since it is to this cruel old Jew he belongs. From what I can make out,
he must be one of your people; and I'm curious to know what account he
will give of himself."
"He Foolah, you think?" inquired the African maiden, her eyes sparkling
with pleasure at the anticipation of seeing one of her own race.
"Yes; I am as good as sure of that. In fact, he has called himself a
Foolah several times, though I can't make out what he says. If he is
one of your tribe, you will be able to talk to him. There he is!"
Cubina had by this time conducted his sweetheart round the tree, to that
side on which the runaway was concealed between the two spurs.
The young man was still crouching within the angle, close up to the
trunk of the _ceiba_. The moment the two figures came in front of him,
and his eyes fell upon the face of the girl, he sprang to his feet,
uttering a cry of wild joy. Like an echo, Yola repeated the cry; and
then both pronouncing some hurried phrases in an unknown tongue, rushed
together, and became folded in a mutual embrace!
Cubina stood transfixed to the spot. Surprise--something more--held him
speechless. He could only think:--
"She knows him! Perhaps her lover in her own land!"
A keen pang of jealousy accompanied the thought.
Rankling it remained in the breast of the Maroon, till Yola, untwining
her arms from the fond embrace, and pointing to him who had received it,
pronounced the tranquillising words:--
"_My brother_!"