Loftus Vaughan was not long alone, though the company that came first to
intrude on the solitude that surrounded him was such as no man, either
living or dying, would desire to see by his bedside.
The black groom had galloped off for help; and ere the sound of his
horse's hoofs had ceased to reverberate through the unclayed chinks of
the cabin, the shadow of a human form, projected through the open
doorway, was flung darkly upon the floor.
The sick man, stretched upon the cane couch, was suffering extreme pain,
and giving way to it by incessant groaning. Nevertheless, he saw the
shadow as it fell upon the floor; and this, with the sudden darkening of
the door, admonished him that someone was outside, and about to enter.
It might be supposed that the presence of any living being would at that
moment have pleased him--as a relief to that lugubrious loneliness that
surrounded him; and perhaps the presence of a living being would have
produced that effect. But in that shadow which had fallen across the
floor, the sick man saw, or fancied he saw, the form of one who should
have been long since dead--the form of Chakra the myal-man!
The shadow was defined and distinct. The hut faced westward. There
were no trees before the door--nothing to intercept the rays of the now
sinking sun, that covered the ground with a reddish glare--nothing save
that sinister _silhouette_ which certainly seemed to betray the presence
of Chakra. Only the upper half of a body was seen--a head, shoulders,
and arms. In the shadow, the head was of gigantic size--the mouth open,
displaying a serrature of formidable teeth--the shoulders, surmounted by
the hideous hump--the arms long and ape-like! Beyond doubt was it
either the shadow of Chakra, or a duplication of his ghost--of late so
often seen!
The sick man was too terrified to speak--too horrified to think. It
scarce added to his agony when, instead of his shadow, the myal-man
himself, in his own proper and hideous aspect, appeared within the
doorway, and without pause stepped forward upon the floor!
Loftus Vaughan could no longer doubt the identity of the man who had
made this ill-timed intrusion. Dizzy though his sight was, from a
disordered brain, and dim as it had been rapidly becoming, it was yet
clear enough to enable him to see that the form which stood before him
was no phantasy--no spirit of the other world, but one of this--one as
wicked as could well be found amid the phalanx of the fiends of
darkness.
He had no longer either fancy or fear about Chakra's ghost. It was
Chakra's self he saw--an apparition far more to be dreaded.
The scream that escaped from the lips of Loftus Vaughan announced the
climax of his horror. On uttering it, he made an effort to rise to his
feet, as if with the intention of escaping from the hut; but finally
overpowered by his own feebleness, and partly yielding to a gesture of
menace made by the myal-man--and which told him that his retreat was
intercepted--he sank back upon the _banquette_ in a paralysis of
despair.
"Ha!" shouted Chakra, as he placed himself between the dying man and the
door. "No use fo' try 'scape! no use wha'somdever! Ef ye wa able get
'way from hya, you no go fur. 'Fore you walk hunder yard you fall down,
in you track, like new-drop calf. No use, you ole fool. Whugh!"
Another shriek was the only reply which the enfeebled man could make.
"Ha! ha! ha!" vociferated Chakra, showing his shark-like teeth in a
fiendish laugh. "Ha! ha! ha! Skreek away, Cussus Va'ghan! Skreek till
you bust you windpipe. Chakra tell you it no use. De death 'pell am
'pon you--it am _in_ you--an' jess when dat ar sun hab cease shine upon
de floor, you go join you two brodder jussuses in de oder world, wha'
you no fine buckra no better dan brack man. Dey gone afore. Boaf go by
de death 'pell. Chakra send you jess de same; only he you keep fo' de
lass, 'kase you de grann Cussus, an' he keep him bess victim fo' de
lass. De Debbil him better like dat way."
"Mercy, mercy!" shrieked the dying man. "Ha! ha! ha!" scornfully
answered Chakra.
"Wha' fo' you cry `mercy?' D'you gib mercy to de ole myal-man, when you
'im chain up dar to de cabbage-tree? You show no mercy den--Chakra show
none now. You got die!"
"Oh! Chakra! good Chakra!" cried the Custos, raising himself upon the
couch, and extending his arms in a passionate appeal. "Save me! save my
life! and I will give you whatever you wish--your freedom--money--"
"Ha!" interrupted Chakra, in a tone of triumphant exultation. "Gib me
freedom, would you? You gib me dat arready. You money dis hya nigga
doan' care 'bout--not de shell ob a cocoa. He hab plenty money; he get
wha' he want fo' de lub spell and de death 'pell. Whugh! De only ting
you hab dat he care 'bout, you no can gib. Chakra take dat 'ithout you
gibbin."
"What?" mechanically asked the dying man, fixing his eyes upon the face
of Chakra with a look of dread import.
"Lilly Quasheba!" cried the monster, in a loud voice, and leering
horridly as he pronounced the name. "Lilly Quasheba!" he repeated, as
if doubly to enjoy the fearful effect which his words were producing.
"De dawter ob de quaderoom! Da's only fair, Cussus," continued he, in a
mocking tone. "You had de modder yourseff--dat is, affer de Maroon!
You know dat! It am only turn an' turn 'bout. Now you go die, Chakra
he come in fo' de dawter. Ha! ha! ha!
"Whugh!" he exclaimed, suddenly changing his tone, and bending down over
the form of the Custos, now prostrate upon the couch. "Whugh! I
b'lieve de buckra gone dead!"
He was dead. On hearing the name "Lilly Quasheba," accompanied by such
a fearful threat, a wild cry had escaped from his lips. It was the last
utterance of his life. On giving tongue to it, he had fallen back upon
the bamboo bedstead, mechanically drawing the cloak over his face, as if
to shut out some horrid sight; and while the myal-man, gloating over
him, was endeavouring to procrastinate his pangs, the poison had
completed its purpose.
Chakra, extending one of his long arms, raised the fold from off his
face; and holding it up, gazed for a moment upon the features of his
hated foe, now rigid, blanched, and bloodless.
Then, as if himself becoming frightened at the form and presence of
death, the savage miscreant dropped the cover quickly to its place; rose
from his stooping position; and stole stealthily from the hut.
Volume Three, Chapter XIX.