The two men who had thus interrupted the silent tableau by the _ceiba_
tree were Jacob Jessuron and Chakra the Coromantee.
Just at the time that Chakra departed from the Jumbe Rock to pay his
nocturnal visit to the Jew, the latter was leaving his penn to honour
the Coromantee with a similar call.
As both were travelling the same path, and in adverse directions, it was
more than probable--a necessity, in fact--that each should meet the
other before reaching the end of his journey. Also, as the glade, where
stood the great _ceiba_, was on the same path, and midway between the
Jumbe Rock and the Jew's penn, it was natural this encounter should take
place not far from that noted trysting-place. In effect, it occurred
within the glade: the two men having entered it almost at the same
instant of time.
The Jew had got first into the open ground, and was first seen. The
myal-man might have had these advantages had he wished: he had been the
first to arrive on the edge of the opening; but, true to his instinct of
caution, he had kept under cover until making a reconnoissance, in which
he saw and recognised his advancing _vis-a-vis_.
They met near the middle of the glade, just outside the shadow of the
great tree, stopping face to face when within a pace or two of each
other. Not the slightest salutation was exchanged between the two men--
any more than if they had been two tigers who had just come together in
the jungle. The secret compact between them precluded the necessity for
compliment or palaver. Each understood the other; and not a word was
spoken to introduce the dialogue except that which was pertinent to the
business between them.
"Well, goot Shakra! you hash news for me?" interrogated the Jew, taking
the initiative in the conversation. "You hash been in the direction of
Savanna? Ish all right on the road?"
"Whugh!" vociferated the myal-man, throwing out his breast and jerking
up his shoulders with an air of triumphant importance. "All right, eh?
Well, not azzackly on de road, but by de side ob daat same, dar lie a
corp', wich by dis time oughter be as cold as de heart ob a
water-millyum, an' 'tiff as--'tiff as--as--de 'keleton ob ole Chakra.
Ha! ha! ha!"
And the speaker uttered a peal of fierce laughter at the simile he had
had so much difficulty in conceiving; but which, when found, recalled
the sweet triumph of his vengeance.
"Blesh my soul! Then it ish all over?"
"Daat's all ober--Ise be boun'."
"And the shpell did it? There wash no need--"
With a start the Jew paused in his speech, as if about to say something
he had not intended; and which had been very near escaping him.
"There wash no need--no need for you to haf gone after?"
This was evidently not the question originally upon his tongue.
"No need!" repeated Chakra, a little puzzled at the interrogatory; "no
need, so far as dat war consarned. Ob coos de 'pell did de work, as a
knowd it wud, an' jess as a told you it wud. 'Twan't fo' dat a went
arter, but a puppos ob my own. Who tole ye, Massr Jake, dat I wor gone
arter?"
"Goot Shakra, I washn't quite sure till now. The wench Cynthy thought
ash how you had followed the Cushtos."
"Whugh! dat 'ere gal talk too much. She hab her tongue 'topped 'fore
long. She _muss_ hab her tongue 'topp, else she gess boaf o' us in
trouble. Nebba mind! A make dat all right too--by-'m-bye. Now, Massr
Jake, a want dat odder twenty-five pound. De job am finish, an' de work
am done. Now's de time fo' de pay."
"That ish right, Shakra. I hash the monish here in red gold. There it
ish."
As the Jew said this, he passed a bag containing gold into the hands of
Chakra.
"You'll find it ish all counted correct. Twenty-five poundsh currenshy.
Fifty pounsh altogether, ash agreed. A deal of monish--a deal of
monish, s' help me!"
Chakra made no reply to this significant insinuation; but, taking the
bag, deposited it in the lining of his skin _kaross_, as he did so
giving utterance to his favourite ejaculation, "Whugh!" the meaning of
which varied according to the accentuation given to it.
"And now, goot Shakra!" continued the Jew: "I hash more work for you.
There ish another shpell wanted, for which you shall have another fifty
poundsh; but firsht tell me, hash you seen anyone to-day on your
travels?"
"Seed any one, eh? Well, dat am a quessin, Massr Jake. A seed a good
wheen on my trabbels: more'n seed me, I'se be boun'."
"But ash you seen anyone ash you know?"
"Sartin a did--de Cussus fo' one, tho', by de gollies! a hardly wud a
knowd him, he wa' so fur gone--moas to de bone! He am almos' as much a
'keleton as ole Chakra hisself. Ha! ha! ha!"
"Anybody elshe that you hash a knowledge of?"
"No--nob'dy--neery one as a know anythin' bout 'ceppin' de Cussus'
'tendant. A seed odder men on de road, but dey wur fur off, and a keep
dem fur off as a kud. Oa! yes, dar wa' one who comed near--mose too
near--him I knowd. Dat wa' one ob dem 'ere Trelawney Maroon--Quaco dey
call um."
"Only Quaco, you shay? You hash seen nothing of hish capt'in, Cubina,
nor of a young white gentlemansh along with him?"
"Neider de one nor de todder ob dem two people. Wha fo' you ask dat,
Massr Jake?"
"I hash a good reason, Shakra. The young fellow I speaksh of ish a
book-keeper of mine. He hash left the penn thish very morning. I don't
know for why, or whither he ish gone; but I hash a reason to think he
ish in company with Capt'in Cubina. Maybe not, and maybe he'll be back
again; but it looksh suspicious. If he'sh gone for goot, the shpell
will be all for nothingsh. 'S'help me, for nothingsh!"
"Dat's a pity! I'm sorry fo' dat, Massr Jake. A hope he no gone."
"Whether or not, I mushn't go to shleep about it. There ish another
shpell that will be more needed now ash ever."
"De Obi am ready. Who d'ye want um set fo' nex'?"
"For this rashcal Cubina."
"Ah, dat ere in welkum. De god do him bess to 'pell _him_."
"He hash trouble for me. It ish not like to come so soon now, ash the
Cushtos ish out of the way. But who knowsh how soon? And better ash
the shpell should be set at once. So, good Shakra, if you can manish to
do for Cubina in as short a time ash you hash done the Cushtos, there
ish another fifty poundsh ready for you."
"A'll do ma bess, Massr Jake, to earn you money. All do ma bess--de
bess can do no mo."
"That ish true, goot Shakra! Don't you think this wench, Cynthy, can
help you?"
"Not a bit ob help from dat quar'r--not worth a 'traw for 'pelling
Cubina. He no let de m'latta come nigh o' 'im fo' no considerashun. He
sick ob de sight o' her. Besides, dat gal, she know too much now. She
one ob dese days fotch de white folk to de Duppy Hole. Dat nebba do.
No furrer use now. She hab serb her turn, an' mus' be got rid ob--muss
go 'long wi' de odders--long wi' de Cussus. Da's my way--de only way
keep a woman tongue tied, am to 'top 'um waggin' altogedder. Whugh!"
After uttering the implied threat, the monster stood silent a moment, as
if reflecting upon some mode by which he could make away with the life
of the mulatta.
"You think, Shakra, you ish likely to find somebody elshe to assist
you?"
"Nebba fear, Massr Jake. Leab dat to ole Chakra--ole Chakra an' ole
Obi. Dey do de bizness widout help from any odder."
"Fifty poundsh, then, Shakra. Ach! I'd give twice the monish--yes,
s'help me, ten times the monish--if I knew it wash all right with young
Vochan. Ach! where ish he gone?"
The expression of bitter chagrin, almost anguish, with which the
villainous old Jew, for at least the tenth time on that day, repeated
this interrogative formula, told that, of all the matters upon his mind,
the absence of his book-keeper was the one uppermost, and deemed by him
of most importance.
"Blesh my soul!" continued he, lifting his umbrella high in air, and
continuing to hold it up, "Blesh my soul! if he ish gone for goot, I
shall have all thish trouble for nothing--all the cr-r--inconvenience!"
It was "crime" he was about to have said; but he changed the word--not
from any delicacy in the presence of Chakra, but rather to still a
shuddering within himself, to which the thought had given rise.
"Nebba mind, Massr Jake," said his confederate, encouragingly; "you hab
got rid ob an enemy--same's masseff. Dat am someting, anyhow; an' a
promise you soon get shot ob one odder. A go at once 'bout dat berry
bizness."
"Yesh! yesh! soon, goot Shakra, soon ash you can! I won't keep yoush
any longer. It ish near daylight. I musht go back, and get some
shleep. S'help me! I hash not had a wink thish night. Ach! I can't
shleep so long ash he'sh not found. I musht go home, and see if there
ish any newsh of him."
So saying, and turning on his heel, without "good night," or any other
parting salutation, the Jew strode abstractedly off, leaving Chakra
where he stood.
Volume Three, Chapter XXVI.