The sun was sinking out of sight into the bosom of the blue Caribbean,
and the twilight, long since extended over the valley below, was now
spreading its purple robe around the summit of the hill, on which stood
the hut. The shadows cast by the huge forest trees were being exchanged
for the more sombre shadows of the coming night; and the outlines of the
hovel--now a house of death--were gradually becoming obliterated in the
crepusculous obscurity.
Inside that deserted dwelling, tenanted only by the dead, reigned
stillness, solemn and profound--the silence of death itself.
Outside, were sounds such as suited the solemnity of the scene: the
mournful _loo-who-ah_ of the eared owl, who had already commenced
quartering the aisles of the forest; while from the heaven above came
the wild wail of the potoo, as the bird went across the fast-darkening
sky, in search of its insect prey.
To these lugubrious utterances there was one solitary exception. More
cheerful was the champing of the steel bit--proceeding from the horse
that had been left tied to the tree--and the quick, impatient stroke of
his hoof, as the animal fretted under the stings of the musquitoes,
becoming more bitter as the darkness descended.
The body of Loftus Vaughan lay upon the bamboo bedstead, just as Chakra
had left it. No hand had been there to smooth that rude pillow--no
friendly finger to close those eyes that were open, and saw not--those
orbs glassed and coldly glaring from their sunken sockets!
As yet the attendant had not returned with that succour which would come
too late.
Nor was it possible for him to get back in much less than an hour.
Content, though in actual distance scarcely a mile from the hut, was
full five in point of time. The slope of the mountain road was at an
angle with the horizon of at least fifty degrees. There could be no
rapid riding on that road--neither up nor down, upon the most urgent
errand; and the black groom was not going to risk life by a broken neck,
even to save the life of a Custos.
It would be a full hour, then, before the man would return. As yet only
twenty minutes had passed, and forty more were to come.
But it was not fated that even for those forty minutes the body of the
Custos Vaughan should be permitted to rest in peace.
Twenty minutes had scarcely elapsed after Chakra had stolen away from
the side of the corpse, when there came others to disturb it, and with a
rude violence almost sufficient to arouse it from the slumber of death!
Had Chakra, on leaving the hut, only taken the main road back to Montego
Bay--and that was the direction in which he intended going--he would
have met two strange men. Not so strange but that they were known to
him; but strange enough to arrest the attention of an ordinary
traveller.
But among the proclivities of the myal-man, that of travelling along
_main roads_ was one in which he did not indulge, except under the most
unavoidable circumstances.
Following his usual practice, as soon as he had cleared the precincts of
the negro cabin, he struck off into a by-path leading through the
bushes; and by so doing lost the opportunity of an encounter with two
individuals, who, although of a different nationality, were as great
villains as himself.
The brace of worthies thus described are already known. They were the
man-hunters of Jacob Jessuron, Manuel and Andres--_cacadores de
cimmarones_ from the Island of Cuba.
With the object for which they were journeying along the Savanna road
the reader is equally _au fait_. Jessuron's talk with them, on starting
them off, has plainly proclaimed the vile intent of his two truculent
tools.
All day long had these human bloodhounds been following upon the track
of the Custos--now nearer to him--now further off--according to the
halts which the traveller had made, and the relative speed of horseman
and pedestrian.
More than once had they sighted their intended victim afar off on the
white dusty road. But the presence of the stout negro attendant, as
well as the broad open daylight, had deterred them from proceeding in
their nefarious purpose; and they had postponed its execution till that
time which gives opportunity to the assassin--the going down of the sun.
This hour had at length arrived; and just as the real murderer was
hastening away from the hut, the intending assassins were hurrying
towards it, with all the speed in their power!
"_Carrambo_!" exclaimed he who was the older, and in consequence the
_leader_ of the two, "I shouldn't be surprised, Andres, if the
_ingeniero_ was to slip out of our clutches to-night! Not far beyond
lies Content, and the owner of that _ingenio_ is a friend of his. You
remember Senor Jacob said he would be like to put up there for the
night?"
"Yes," replied Andres, "the old Judio was particular about that."
"Well, if he gets there before we can overhaul him, there'll be nothing
done to-night. We must take our chance on the road between that and
Savanna."
"_Carajo_!" responded Andres, with somewhat spiteful emphasis; "if it
wasn't for them ugly pistols he carries, and that big buck nigger by his
side, we might have stopped his breath before this. Supposing he gets
to Savanna before we can have a talk with him? what then, _compadre_?"
"Then," answered he thus godfatherly addressed, "then our lines won't
lie in pleasant places. Savanna's a big city; and it isn't so easy to
murder a man in the street of a town as among these trees. People
prowling about have tongues, where the trees haven't; and fifty pounds,
Jamaica money, a'nt much for killing a man--more especially a _Custos_,
as they call him. _Carajo_! we must take care, or we may get our necks
twisted for this simple trick! These Custoses are like our _alcaldes_--
kill one, and a dozen others will spring up to prosecute you."
"But what," inquired Andres, who, although the younger of the two,
appeared to be gifted with a greater degree of prudence than his
companion--"what if we don't find a chance--even in Savanna?"
"Then," replied the other, "we stand a good chance of losing our fifty
pounds--shabby currency as it is."
"How that, Manuel?"
"How that? Why, because the _ingeniero_, once in Savanna, will take
ship and travel by sea. The _dueno_ said so. If he do that, we may bid
adieu to him; for I wouldn't make another sea-voyage for five times
fifty pounds. That we had from Batabano was enough to last me for my
life. _Carajo_! I thought it was the _vomito prieto_ that had seized
upon me. But for the fear of another such puking spell I'd have gone
home with the rest, instead of staying in this nest of Jews and
nigger-drivers; and how I'm ever to get back to Batabano, let alone
making a voyage for the purpose of--"
The Cubano refrained from finishing his speech--not from any delicacy he
had about declaring the purpose, but because he knew that the
declaration would be supererogatory to an associate who already
comprehended it.
"In that case," counselled the more sagacious Andres, "we must finish
our business before Savanna comes in sight. Perhaps, _compadre_, by
pushing on rapidly now, we may overtake the party before they get
anchored in Content?"
"You're right, _hombre_; you're right about that. Let us, as you say,
push on; and, if it suits you as it does me, let our motto be, `_Noche o
nunca_' (this night or never)!"
"_Vamos_!" rejoined Andres; and the assassins increased their speed, as
if stimulated by the fear of losing their prey.
Volume Three, Chapter XX.