It was nervous work during the next few days, neither Nic nor Pete
daring to take any step towards making their escape, for the feeling was
strong upon both that they were in their enemy's hands, and that he was
only waiting his time before betraying them to the overseer.
"That's his way, Master Nic, and it always was. Once he had a grudge
agen a man he'd never forgive him," said Pete one night, "and he'd wait
his chance to serve him out. I never liked Humpy, and he never liked
me; zo, after all, it was six o' one and half-a-dozen o' the other."
"I can't help thinking that we are worrying ourselves about nothing,
Pete," replied Nic. "It's a case of the guilty conscience needing no
accuser."
"That it aren't, sir," said the man sturdily. "I aren't going to
believe you've got any guilty conscience, and there aren't nothing worse
on mine than a bit o' zalmon."
Nic smiled in the darkness, and Pete went on:
"Well, if you think like that, Master Nic, let's risk it. Old Humpy's
cunning enough, but p'raps two heads'll be better than one, and we can
beat him. What do you zay to trying, then?"
"Anything is better than this terrible suspense, Pete," said Nic. "I
did manage to bear my fate before, but the thought now of that boat
lying ready to carry us down the river is too much for me, and there are
moments when I feel as if I must say to you, `Come on; let's run down to
the river and dash in, risking everything.'"
"What! and them zee us go, Master Nic?"
"Yes; I am getting desperate with waiting."
"Wouldn't do, my lad. They'd chivvy us, them and the blacks and Humpy
and t'others. Why, bless you, nothing old Humpy would like better."
"I'm afraid so."
"That's it, zir, whether you're 'fraid or whether you bean't. And
s'posing we got the boat, what then, zir? Them seeing us and going
along by the bank shooting at us."
"We might lie down, Pete."
"Yes; and they'd send in half-a-dozen niggers to zwim to the boat and
bring it ashore. What do you say to that, zir?"
"That I'm half-mad to propose such a thing," replied Nic.
"Talk lower, zir. I can't hear old Humpy; but let's be on the lookout."
"Better give up all thought of getting away," said Nic despondently.
"Bah! Never zay die, Master Nic. Why, there's the old place at home
seeming to hold out its finger to us, beckoning-like, and zaying `Come,'
and once I do get back, you'll never ketch me meddling with no one's
zalmon again. But look here, zir, we thought it all out before, and I
don't see as we can better it."
"I feel hopeless, Pete."
"And I feel as if I've got 'nough o' that stuff in me for both. Wish we
could be hoeing together again, so as we could talk it over."
"I wish so too, Pete."
"It aren't half so pleasant hoeing along with the blacks as it is with
you, zir."
"Thank you, Pete," said Nic, smiling to himself.
"I aren't got nought agen 'em. They can't help having black skins and
them thick lips, and they're wonderful good-tempered. Just big
children, that's what they are. Fancy a man being a zlave and ready to
zing and dance 'cause the moon zhines, ready to go out hunting the coons
and 'possums as if there was nothing the matter."
"It's their nature to be light-hearted," said Nic.
"Light-hearted, zir? Why, there's one o' the gang along with me as
allus seems as if you were tickling him. Only to-day he drops hisself
down and rolls about in the hot sun, and does nothing but laugh, just
because he's happy. Why, I couldn't laugh now if I tried."
"Wait, Pete; perhaps you may again some day."
"I want to laugh to-morrow night, zir."
"What?"
"When we've got a couple o' guns aboard that boat, and we're going down
the river," whispered Pete excitedly. "I can laugh then."
"We couldn't do it, Pete."
"We could, zir, if we zaid we would."
"There is the risk of that man watching us and telling."
"He'd better!" growled Pete. "Look here, zir; let's have no more
shilly-shallying. Say you'll go to-morrow night, and risk it."
"Why not wait for a good opportunity?"
"'Cause if we do it mayn't never come."
"But food--provisions?" said Nic, whose heart was beginning to throb
with excitement.
"Eat all we can to-morrow, and chance what we can get in the woods, or
go without a bit. I'd starve two days for the sake of getting away.
Will you risk it, zir?"
For answer Nic stretched out his hand and grasped Pete's, having his own
half-crushed in return.
"That settles it, then," whispered Pete hoarsely. "Zave a bit of
bread-cake if you can. May come in useful. To-morrow night, then."
"To-morrow night."
"Are you two going to keep on talking till to-morrow morning?" growled a
deep voice. "Zum on us want a bit o' sleep. Look here, mates; I'm
going to speak to the gaffer to-morrow, to ax if them two chatterin' old
women can't be put somewheres else."
Nic turned cold, and Pete uttered a deep sigh, for if this were done
they would, he knew, have to begin making their plans again.
But hope cheered them both as the next day dawned and passed on without
incident. Humpy Dee's was evidently only an empty threat, and as
evening drew on Nic's excitement increased, and with it came a sensation
of strength such as he had not enjoyed for months.
It was as if his companion had endowed him with a portion of his own
elastic temperament, and success was going to attend their efforts. All
the weary despondency had passed away, and in imagination Nic saw the
boat floating down the river towards the sea, where, hope whispered, it
must be very easy to find some British ship whose captain would be ready
to listen to their unhappy story, and let them hide on board till he set
sail, and then let them work their passage home. "For," argued Nic now
in his excitement, "no Englishman could be so hardhearted as to refuse
help to a white slave."
He saw nothing of Pete after they had started for their day's work,
their duties taking them to different parts of the plantation; but that
was no more than he expected, and he toiled away with his hoe, telling
himself that this was the last time he would handle it, for they would--
they must--escape; and he wondered now that he could have hesitated so
long, and have let the notion that Humpy Dee was quietly trying to
undermine them act like a bugbear.
One thing was difficult, though, and that was to eat heartily in
readiness for what might be a long fast. Nic ate all he could force
down, however, and hid away the rest. But how long that hot day seemed,
before the darkness closed in and the strange sounds began to rise from
the woods and river!
Never had all these sounded so loudly before; and when at last Nic lay
down in his rustling bunk, and the place had been locked and the black
sentry placed at the door, it seemed to the listener as if the great
goat-suckers were whirring about just outside, and the bull-frogs had
come in a body to the very edge of the woods and up the ditches of the
plantation to croak.
Humpy Dee and his companions were talking together; the black sentry
yawned, and began to hum an air to himself; and soon after the voices of
the settler and the overseer passed, discussing some plan in connection
with the crops; but Nic did not hear either of the dogs bark, neither
did the one which had shown friendliness towards him come snuffling
about the entrance of the low shed.
"Why doesn't Pete say something?" thought Nic, who began to wonder at
the silence of his companion, not a word having passed since they met at
the rough supper; and now, for the first time that day, Nic's heart sank
a little, for it seemed to him that his fellow-plotter had shrunk from
the risks they would have to encounter--risks which might mean being
shot at, worried by the dogs, dragged down by the alligators to a
horrible death, perhaps fever and starvation in the swamp, or being
drowned at sea, if they reached the river's mouth, and were swept away
by one of the fierce currents along the shore.
It meant waiting two hours at least before they could begin their
attempt; but still Nic wanted to get rid of the oppression which
troubled him, and to feel that they really were going to make their
escape; but the murmuring of their companions' voices went on, and still
Pete made no sign.
At last Nic could contain himself no longer. He was all eagerness now;
and, if they were not going to make the attempt, he wanted to know the
worst. He spoke in a whisper:
"Pete, Pete!"
"Phew! how hot--how hot!" muttered the man.
"Pete!" whispered Nic again.
"I wish you wouldn't keep on talking," said Pete loudly. "You know how
it set them grumbling last night."
Nic drew a deep breath through his teeth, as he lay there in the hot,
oppressive darkness. They were not going, then. It was the way with a
man of Pete's class to pick a quarrel upon some other subject when he
wanted to find an excuse and back out of an arrangement.
"Ay, you had a narrow escape on it," said one of the men surlily. "Old
Humpy was pretty nigh going to the gaffer to-day."
"It's all over," thought Nic, as a feeling of bitterness ran through
him. Only four-and-twenty hours earlier he had been ready to give up
and accept his position. Then Pete had touched the right chord in his
nature, and roused him up to a readiness to run any risk, and make a
brave dash for liberty; while now the man seemed to have shrunk back
into his shell, and to be completely giving up just when the call was
about to be made upon his energies.
At another time Nic might have argued differently; but, strung up as he
had been, his companion's surly indifference was crushing, and it seemed
that the wild, exciting adventures of the night were to give place to a
cowardly, sordid sleep.
"If anything big is to be done, one must depend upon one's-self,"
thought Nic at last; and, angry with the whole world, bitter at his own
helplessness, as he felt how mad it would be to attempt the venture
alone, he turned over in his bunk, throwing out one hand in the
movement, and it came in contact with Pete's, to be gripped fast.
In an instant the blood was dancing through his veins, and a choking
sensation as of impending suffocation troubled him; the arteries in his
temples beat painfully, and he lay breathing hard.
For it was to be after all, and this conduct was his companion's way of
showing him that it was better to lie in silence, waiting till the time
arrived for commencing their task.
Nic lay there listening to the low murmur of his fellow-prisoners'
voices and the chorus of strange sounds from the forest and river; and
in the stillness of the night, every now and then, a faint splash came
plainly to where he lay, sending a thrill through him, as he thought
that, if all went well, before very long he might be swimming across the
river, running the gauntlet of the horrible-looking reptiles, and his
left hand stole down to his belt to grasp the handle of the sharpened
knife, while he wondered whether the skin of the alligators would be
horny or tough enough to turn the point.
How long, how long it seemed before all was perfectly still in the long,
low shed, and not a sound could be heard outside but the faint humming
noise made by the black sentry!
Then all at once there were steps.
Some one had come up, and in a low whisper Nic heard the words:
"All right?"
"Yes, massa."
Then the steps passed away again, and Pete gripped Nic's hand as he lay
straining his hearing to try and ascertain whether the overseer had
entered the house; but the barking or croaking of reptiles was the only
sound.
Another hour must have passed, and then Nic's blood rushed through his
veins, for a hand touched his again lightly, and seemed to seek for the
other. Directly after he felt a hot breath upon his face, and lips to
his ear, uttering the one word:
"Come!"