For a while after the departure of Cynthia, the temple of Obi remained
untenanted, except by its dumb deities: its priest having gone to ferry
his neophyte across the lagoon.
In a few minutes he returned alone--having left the mulatta to make her
way up the cliff, and homeward to Mount Welcome, where she belonged.
It was evident that the visit of the mulatta had given him
gratification. Even in the dim light of his lard lamp an expression of
demoniac joy could be distinguished upon his ferocious visage, as he
re-entered the hut.
"One dead!" cried he, in an exulting tone; "anodder upon 'im death-bed;
and now de third, de las' an' wuss ob 'em all--ha! ha! ha!--he soon feel
de vengeance ob Chakra, de myal-man!"
Thrice did the wild, maniac-like laugh peal from under the spreading
limbs of the _ceiba_--reverberating with an unearthly echo against the
cliffs that hemmed in the Duppy's Hole. It startled the denizens of the
dark lagoon; and, like echoes, came ringing up the ravine the scream of
the crane, and the piercing cry of the wood-ibis.
These sounds had scarce died away, when one of a somewhat different
intonation was heard from above. It resembled a shriek; or rather as if
some one had whistled through his fingers. Whoever gave utterance to
the sound was upon the top of the cliff--just over the hut.
Chakra was not startled. He knew it was a signal; and that it was given
by the guest he was expecting.
"Das de ole Jew!" muttered he, taking the rum-bottle, and concealing it
under the bedstead. "You stay dar till I wants ye 'gain," added he,
addressing himself in a confidential tone to this, the object of his
greatest adoration. "Now for de nigga-dealer! I'se hab news fo' him
'll tickle 'im in de ribs like a ole guana lizzard. Not dat Chakra care
fo' him. No--only, on dis voyage, boaf am sailin' in de same boat. Da
he go 'gain!"
This last exclamation referred to a repetition of the signal heard
further down: as if he who was sounding it was advancing along the
cliff, towards the gorge at the lower end.
A third call proceeded from that point where the tree stairway scaled
the precipice--indicating to Chakra that his visitor was there awaiting
him.
Without further delay, the ferryman--grim as Charon himself--returned to
his canoe; and once more paddled it across the lagoon.
While Chakra was thus occupied, a man could be seen descending the
cliff, through the tangle of climbing plants, who, on the arrival of the
canoe at the bottom, was standing, half concealed among the bushes,
ready to step into it. The moon shone upon a blue body-coat, with
bright buttons; upon a brown beaver hat and white skull-cap; upon
tarnished top-boots, green goggles, and an enormous umbrella.
Chakra did not need to scan the sharp Israelitish features of the man to
ascertain who he was.
Jacob Jessuron was there by appointment; and the myal-man knew both his
presence and his purpose.
Not a word of recognition passed between the two, nor sign. Only a
caution from Chakra--as the Jew, swinging by a branch, let himself down
into the canoe.
"'Tep in lightly, Massr Jake, an' doan' push da canoe down 'tream. 'T
am jess' as much as I kin do to keep de ole craff out ob de eddy. Ef
she get down da, den it 'ud be all up wifh boaf o' us."
"Blesh my soul! D'you shay so?" rejoined the Jew, glancing towards the
gorge, and shivering as he listened to the hoarse groaning of the water
among the grim rocks. "S'help me, I didn't know it was dangerous.
Don't fear, Shakra! I shtep in ash light ash a feather."
So saying, the Jew dropped his umbrella into the bottom of the boat; and
then let himself down upon the top of it, with as much gentleness as if
he was descending upon a basket of eggs.
The ferryman, seeing his freight safely aboard, paddled back to the
mooring-place; and, having secured his craft as before, conducted his
visitor up the valley in the direction of the hut.
On entering the temple of Obi, Jessuron--unlike the devotee who had just
left it--showed no signs either of surprise or fear at its fantastic
adornments. It was evident he had worshipped there before.
Nor did he evince a special veneration for the shrine; but, seating
himself familiarly on the bamboo bedstead, uttered as he did so a
sonorous "Ach!" which appeared as if intended to express satisfaction.
At the same time he drew from the ample pocket of his coat a shining
object, which, when held before the lamp, appeared to be a bottle. The
label seen upon its side, with the symbolical bunch of grapes, proved it
to be a bottle of cognac.
The exclamation of the myal-man, which the sight of the label had
instantaneously elicited, proved that on his side equal satisfaction
existed at this mode of initiating an interview.
"Hash you a glass among your belongingsh?" inquired the Jew, looking
around the hovel.
"No; dis yeer do?" asked his host, presenting a small calabash with a
handle.
"Fush rate. Thish liquor drinksh goot out of anything. I had it from
Capten Showler on hish lasht voyage. Jesh taste it, good Shakra, before
we begins bishness."
A grunt from the negro announced his willing assent to the proposal.
"Whugh!" he ejaculated, after swallowing the allowance poured out for
him into the calabash.
"Ach! goot it ish!" said his guest, on quaffing off a like quantity; and
then the bottle and gourd being set on one side, the two queer
characters entered into the field of free conversation.
In this the Jew took the initiative.
"I hash news for you," said he, "very shtrange news, if you hashn't
already heard it, Shakra? Who dosh you think ish dead?"
"Ha!" exclaimed the myal-man, his eye suddenly lighting up with a gleam
of ferocious joy; "he gone dead, am he?"
"Who? I hashen't told you," rejoined the Jew, his features assuming an
expression of mock surprise. "But true," he continued, after a pause;
"true, you knew he wash sick--you knew Justish Bailey wash sick, an'
_not likely to get over it_. Well--he hashen't, poor man!--he's dead
and in hish coffin by thish time: he breathed hish lasht yesterdays."
A loud and highly-aspirated "Whugh!" was the only answer made by the
myal-man. The utterance was not meant to convey any melancholy
impression. On the contrary, by its peculiar intonation, it indicated
as much satisfaction as any amount of words could have expressed.
"It ish very shtrange," continued the penn-keeper, in the same tone of
affected simplicity; "so short a time shince Mishter Ridgely died. Two
of the three shustices that sat on your trial, goot Shakra. It looksh
ash if Providensh had a hand in it--it dosh!"
"Or de Dibbil, mo' like, maybe?" rejoined Chakra, with a significant
leer.
"Yesh--Gott or the Devil--one or t'other. Well, Shakra, you hash had
your refenge, whichever hash helped you to it. Two of your enemies ish
not likely to trouble you again; and ash for the third--"
"Nor he berry long, I'se speck'," interrupted the negro, with a
significant grin.
"What you shay?" exclaimed the Jew, in an earnest undertone. "Hash you
heard anythings? Hash the wench been to see you?"
"All right 'bout her, Massr Jake."
"Goot--she _hash_ been?"
"Jess leab dis place 'bout quar'r ob an hour 'go."
"And she saysh she will help you to set the obeah-shpell for him?"
"Hab no fear--she do all dat. Obi had spell oba her, dat make her do
mose anythin--ah! any thin' in de worl'--satin shoo. Obi all-powerful
wi' dat gal."
"Yesh, yesh!" assented the Jew; "I knowsh all that. And if Obi wash to
fail," added he, doubtingly, "you hash a drink, goot Shakra--I know you
hash a drink, ash potent as Obi or any other of your gotsh."
A glance of mutual intelligence passed between the two.
"How long dosh it take your shpell to work?" inquired the penn-keeper,
after an interval of silence, in which he seemed to be making some
calculation.
"Dat," replied the negro, "dat depend altogedder on de saccomstance ob
how long de spell am _wanted_ to work. Ef 'im wanted, Chakra make 'im
in tree day fotch de 'trongest indiwiddible cla out o' 'im boots; or in
tree hour he do same--but ob coorse dat ud be too soon fo' be safe. A
spell of tree hours too 'trong. Dat not Obi work--'im look berry like
pisen."
"Poison--yesh, yesh, it would."
"Tree day too short--tree week am de correct time. Den de spell work
'zackly like fever ob de typos. Nobody had s'picion 'bout 'um."
"Three weeks, you shay? And no symptoms to make schandal? You're shure
that ish sufficient? Remember, Shakra; the Cushtos ish a strong man--
strong ash a bull."
"No mar'r 'bout dat. Ef he 'trong as de bull, in dat period ob time he
grow weak as de new-drop calf--I'se be boun' he 'taggering Bob long
'fore dat. You say de word, Massr Jake. Obi no like to nigga. Nigga
only brack man: he no get pay fo' 'im work. Obi 'zemble buckra man. He
no work 'less him pay."
"Yesh--yesh! dat ish only shust and fair. Obi should be paid; but shay,
goot Shakra! how much ish his prishe for a shpell of thish kind?"
"Ef he hab no interest hisseff in de workin' ob de 'pell, he want a
hunder poun'. When he hab interest, das different--den he take fifty."
"Fifty poundsh! That ish big monish, good Shakra! In thish case Obi
hash an interest--more ash anybody elshe. He hash an enemy, and wants
refenge. Ish that not true, goot Shakra!"
"Das da troof. Chakra no go fo' deny 'im. But das jess why Obi 'sent
do dat leetle _chore_ fo' fifty poun'. Obi enemy big buckra--'trong as
you hab jess say--berry diff'cult fo' 'pell 'im. Any odder myal-man
charge de full hunder poun'. Fack, no odder able do de job--no odder
but ole Chakra hab dat power."
"Shay no more about the prishe. Fifty poundsh be it. Here'sh half
down." The tempter tossed a purse containing coin into the outstretched
palm of the obeah-man. "All I shtipulate for ish, that in three weeks
you earn the other half; and then we shall both be shquare with the
Cushtos Vochan--for I hash my refenge to shatisfy ash well as you,
Shakra."
"Nuff sed, Massr Jake. 'Fore tree day de 'pell sha' be put on. You
back come to de Duppy Hole tree night from dis, you hear how 'im work.
Whugh!"
The gourd shell was again brought into requisition; and, after a parting
"kiss" at the cognac, the "heel-tap" of which remained in the hut, the
precious pair emerged into the open air.
The priest of Obi having conducted his fellow-conspirator across the
lagoon, returned to his temple, and set himself assiduously to finish
what was left of the liquor.
"Whugh!" ejaculated he, in one of the pauses that occurred between two
vigorous pulls at the bottle; "ole villum Jew wuss dan Chakra--wuss dan
de Debbil hisseff! Doan' know why _he_ want rebbenge. Das nuffin' to
me. _I_ want rebbenge, an', by de great Accompong! I'se a g'wine to
hab it! Ef dis gal proob true, as de odder's did--she _muss_ proob
true--in tree week de proud, fat buckra jussis dat condemn me to dat
Jumbe Rock--`Cussos rodelorum,' as de call 'im--won't hab no more flesh
on 'im bones dan de 'keleton he tink wa' myen. And den, when 'im die--
ah! den, affer 'im die, de daughter ob dat Quasheba dat twenty year 'go
'corn de lub ob de Coromantee for dat ob de yellow Maroon--maybe her
dauter, de Lilly Quasheba, sleep in de arms ob Chakra de myal-man!
Whugh!"
As the minister of Obi gave utterance to this hypothetical threat, a
lurid light glared un in his sunken eyes, while his white, sharklike
teeth were displayed in an exulting grin--hideous as if the Demon
himself were smiling over some monstrous menace!
Both cognac and rum-bottle were repeatedly tasted, until the strong
frame of the Coromantee gave way to the stronger spirit of the alcohol;
and, muttering fearful threats in his gumbo jargon, he at length sank
unconscious on the floor.
There, under the light of the lard lamp--now flickering feebly--he lay
like some hideous satyr, whom Bacchus, by an angry blow, had felled
prostrate to the earth!
Volume Two, Chapter XXV.