The brief conversation between Jessuron and his overseer had taken place
_sotto voce_: as it was not desirable that it should be overheard by any
one--much less by the nephew of him who was its chief subject, and who
was supposed to be suspended in a hammock not ten paces from the spot.
The hammock, however, was not visible from the front stairway--being
hung in that part of the verandah that extended along the other side of
the house.
On the departure of Ravener from his presence, the Jew proceeded with
his original intention--to put his person in order for the day.
His toilette did not take long. After a very brief absence within his
room, he reappeared on the gallery in the same pocketed blue coat,
breeches, and tops, that served him for all purposes and occasions. The
coat was buttoned over his breast, the whitey-brown beaver once more
upon his head, and the goggles adjusted on the knife-back ridge of his
nose. It was evident he intended a stroll. This was all the more
certain as he had regained the umbrella--which had dropped from him
during sleep--and, holding it in his grasp, stood by the top of the
stairway, as if on the eve of setting forth.
Whither was he going? For what purpose, so early?
His muttered soliloquy declared his design.
"It musht be to-day--yesh, I musht get them married thish very day; and
before any newsh can come. The report of the Cushtos' death might
shpoil all my plans. Who knowsh what the young man might do, if he hash
only a hint of hish goot luck? After all, may be, Shoodith ish not so
shure of him? She hash said something last night. Ha! it musht be
thish day. It is no ushe going to the rector of the parish. He ish the
Cushtos' friend, and might make some obsheckshun. That won't do--s'help
me, no! I musht go to the other. Hee'sh poor, and won't sthand
shilly-shally. Besides, hish knot would be shoost as hard to looshe as
if it wash tied by the Bishop of Shamaica. He'll do; and if _he_ won't,
then I knowsh one who will--for monish; ay, anything for monish!"
After this soliloquy he was about setting foot upon one of the steps
with the intention of descending, when a thought appeared to strike him;
and turning away from the stair, he walked with shuffling gentleness
along the gallery, towards that part of the verandah where the hammock
was suspended.
"I supposhe the young shentleman is shtill ashleep. Shentleman, indeed!
_now_ he ish all that, or will be the next time he goesh to shleep.
Well, if he ish, I mushn't dishturb him. Rich shentlemen mushn't have
their shlumbers interrupted. _Ach_!"
The exclamation escaped from his lips, as, on rounding the angle of the
verandah, he came within sight of the hammock.
"'Tish empty, I declare! He'sh early astir! In hish room, I supposhe?"
_Sans ceremonie_, the Jew kept on along the gallery, until he had
arrived in front of his book-keeper's private apartment. There he
stopped, looking inward.
The door was ajar--almost wide open. He could see the greater portion
of the interior through the door; the rest of it through the jalousies.
There was no one in the room--either sitting, standing, or moving about!
"Mashter Vochan! Are you there?"
The interrogatory was put rather by way of confirming his observation:
for he saw there was no one inside.
"Where are you, Mashter Herbert?" continued he, repeating the
interrogatory in an altered form--at the same time craning his neck into
the apartment, and glancing all around it. "Ash I live, it'sh empty,
like the hammock! He musht have gone out. Yesh. Hish hat's not here--
his cloak ish not here; and I see no gun. He alwaysh kept hish gun
joosh there. How hash he passed me without my hearing his foot? I
shleeps so ash I can hear a cat shtealin' over the floor! Hash he gone
by the shtairway at all? Ash I live, no! Blesh my soul! there is a
track where somebody musht have shumped over the railing down into the
garden! S'help me, it ish his track! There'sh no other but him to have
made it. What the deffil ish the young fellow after this morning? I
hope there ish nothing wrong in it."
On missing the young Englishman out of his hammock and room, the
penn-keeper felt at first no particular uneasiness. His _protege_ had,
no doubt, gone out for a stroll in the woods. He had taken his gun
along with him, to have a shot at some early bird looking for the early
worm. He had done so many a time before--though never at so early an
hour.
The hour, however, was not enough of itself to cause any surprise to his
patron; nor even the fact of his having leaped over the verandah
railing. He might have seen the owner of the house asleep in his chair
near the head of the stairway; and, not wishing to disturb him, had
chosen the other mode of exit. There was nothing in all this to cause
uneasiness.
Nor would the Jew have thought anything of it had it not been for some
other circumstances which quickly came under his notice--guiding him to
the suspicion that something _might be amiss_.
The first of these circumstances was that Herbert, although having taken
his gun along with him, had left behind his shot-belt and powder-flask!
Both were there in his room, hanging upon their peg. They did not
escape the sharp glance of the Jew, who at once began to draw
conclusions from their presence.
If the young man had gone out on a shooting excursion, it was strange
that he did not take his ammunition along with him!
Perhaps, however, he had seen some sort of game near the house, and, in
his hurry to get a shot at it, had gone off hastily--trusting to the two
charges which his gun contained. In that case he would not go far, and
in a few minutes might be expected back.
A few minutes passed, and a great many minutes--until a full hour had
transpired--and still nothing was heard or seen of the book-keeper,
though messengers had been dispatched in search of him, and had
quartered all the ground for half a mile around the precincts of the
penn.
Jessuron--whose matutinal visit to the minister had been postponed by
the occurrence--began to look grave.
"It ish shtrange," said he, speaking to his daughter, who had now
arisen, and was far from appearing cheerful; "shtrange he should go
abroad in thish fashion, without shaying a word to either of ush!"
Judith made no reply: though her silence could not conceal a certain
degree of chagrin, from which she was evidently suffering. Perhaps she
had even more reason than the "rabbi" to suspect there was something
amiss?
Certainly, something disagreeable--a misunderstanding at least, had
arisen between her and Herbert on the preceding day. Her speech had
already given some slight hint of it; but much more her manner, which,
on the night before, and now unmistakably in the morning, betrayed a
mixture of melancholy and suppressed indignation.
It did not add to the equanimity of her temper, when the house wench--
who was unslinging the hammock in which Herbert had slept--announced it
to contain two articles scarce to be expected in such a place--a
cocoa-nut and a tobacco-pipe!
The pipe could not have belonged to Herbert Vaughan: he never smoked a
pipe; and as for the cocoa-nut, it had evidently been plucked from the
tree standing near. The trunk of the palm exhibited scratches as if
some one had climbed up it, and above could be seen the freshly-torn
peduncle, where the fruit had been wrenched from its stalk!
What should Herbert Vaughan have been doing up the palm-tree, flinging
cocoa-nuts into his own couch?
His unaccountable absence was becoming surrounded by circumstances still
more mysterious. One of the cattle-herds, who had been sent in search
of him, now coming in, announced a new fact, of further significance.
In the patch of muddy soil, outside the garden wall, the herd had
discovered the book-keepers track, going up towards the hills; and near
it, on the same path, the footprint of another man, who must have gone
over the ground twice, returning as he had come!
This cattle-herd, though of sable skin, was a skilled tracker. His word
might be trusted.
It was trusted, and produced an unpleasant impression both on Jessuron
and Judith--an impression more unpleasant as time passed, and the
book-keeper was still unreturned.
The father fumed and fretted; he did more--he threatened. The young
Englishman was his debtor, not only for a profuse hospitality, but for
_money advanced_. Was he going to prove ungrateful? A defaulter?
Ah! little had that pecuniary obligation to do with the chagrin that was
vexing the Jew Jessuron--far less with those emotions, like the waves of
a stormy sea, that had begun to agitate the breast of his daughter; and
which every slight circumstance, like a strong wind, was lashing into
fury and foam.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Blue Dick came back. He had executed his errand adroitly. The Custos
was gone upon a journey; he had started exactly at the hour of daybreak.
"Goot!" said Jessuron; "but where is hish nephew?"
Blue Dick had seen Cynthia; and whispered a word in her ear, as the
overseer had instructed him. She would come over to the penn, as soon
as she could find an opportunity for absence from Mount Welcome.
"Goot!" answered the Jew. "But where is Mashter Vochan? where hash he
betaken himshelf?"
"Where?" mentally interrogated Judith, as the noonday sun saw the black
clouds coursing over her brow.
Volume Three, Chapter IV.