HOW RODRIGUES GOT AT THE TRUTH, AND A LIE INTO THE BARGAIN.
Hearing these sounds, I say, I was assured that the negro did intend to
burst open the trap and take revenge for the wound I had dealt him, and
I have good reason to believe that this was his intent and purpose, for
standing on the hatch to lend strength to the bolt that secured it, I
felt it move beneath my feet; nay, the very boards cracked under the
force of his broad shoulders against it.
But this prodigious effort was too much for the strength of the wounded
wretch. Presently we heard a hoarse cry of rage, and then a heavy fall,
as if he had yielded to a faintness and pitched down once more to the
ground.
After that we heard no movement below, nor any sound whatever; neither
was any further attempt made to raise the trap.
Seeing that Lady Biddy was very much overwrought by this excitement and
her previous want of rest, I implored her to return to the other cabin
and seek repose--pointing out that we had no more to fear from the
black, and promising that, should anything happen to the contrary, I
would not fail to let her know. And listening at length to my
persuasions, she went back as I bade her, lowered the wick of her lamp,
and did, after awhile, as she told me in the morning, unconsciously fall
asleep. For my own part, I spent the rest of that night seated on the
hatch, never once closing my eyes or relaxing my watch.
In the morning Lady Biddy, coming to me, whispered that search was being
made for the negro; indeed, I could with my own ears hear the men
bellowing in different parts, "Tonga! Tonga!" which was the name of this
fellow.
I bade Lady Biddy go back again to her cabin, and seem to know nothing
of what this search meant.
Soon after she had returned there, Rodrigues comes to her, and, with a
vast show of respect and consideration, begged she would have patience
to wait a little while for her breakfast, as the cook was not at his
post, and could not be found.
"I remarked his manner was strange all day yesterday," says he, "and it
is as like as not he has thrown himself overboard in a fit of madness,
produced by the heat of the sun. However," he adds, "this accident shall
not interfere with your convenience, for I will dress your victuals with
my own hands rather than they shall be ill-served." And with this polite
speech he makes his _conge_ and leaves my lady.
At noon, when the boy had served the dinner, Rodrigues came again to
apologize for the quality of the food, saying that they had run short of
provisions with having been so long at sea, but that he hoped to provide
her with fresh meat and fruit before twenty-four hours, as land was in
sight, and he counted to cast anchor the following morning.
Lady Biddy replied as graciously as she could to one whom she so loathed
and despised, and in this (despite her natural repugnance to hypocrisy
or deceit) her wit was aided by the comfort of this news, and the
knowledge that our chance of escape would be greatly aided by lulling
Rodrigues' suspicion.
He said not a word about marriage, and indeed behaved himself with
becoming civility; and to make him believe that he had succeeded in
producing a more favorable impression on herself, Lady Biddy begged him,
when he was going, to leave the door wide open that she might have the
benefit of the air.
About two o'clock, when all the company were resting (for in these
latitudes it is impossible to work while the sun is in the meridian),
Lady Biddy came into the little cabin, and with great glee told me what
had passed and how we were nearing land.
"But," says she, "if we come to an anchor in the morning, will it be
possible to escape in broad daylight?"
"No," says I; "that we can not, unless we should get away when all are
taking their noon rest. But there is no necessity to run great peril by
haste. Water, I doubt not, is what is much needed. As Rodrigues said
nothing about reaching a port, it is pretty evident he is running to
land for the immediate refreshment of his company. They will not be
content getting on shore to embark again at once even if they succeed in
finding a freshet for the filling of their barrels. Any way I feel
certain we shall not lift anchor again for twenty-four hours, and that
will give us the night to make our escape in."
Satisfied with this assurance, Lady Biddy returned to the next cabin,
after bathing her sweet hands and face, leaving me to turn over in my
mind a hundred schemes for our deliverance; yet none could I hit on but
what seemed desperate in the extreme.
Nothing occurred to disturb Lady Biddy's repose the succeeding night, to
her great refreshment no less to my satisfaction.
Shortly after daybreak there was much bustle on deck, and presently I
heard the anchor drop, whereupon, as if the moment of our release were
come, my heart bounded with joy, and I scraped at the wall to awake Lady
Biddy. By her quick reply, I knew that the sound had aroused her, and
she had divined its meaning.
Then there arose a great hallooing and shouting amongst the men, who
seemed no less pleased than we, though from another cause. But there was
yet much to be done before a boat could be sent ashore. However, the
fellows set about their work with a will, and now there was nothing but
singing and laughing over it, whereas before they had gone about their
business in sullen silence.
It may have been about eight o'clock when the merriment on board was of
a sudden hushed, and Lady Biddy, looking from the door to see what this
might mean, perceived a seaman coming up the hatchway in the fore part
of the ship, with a jar and a bundle in one hand, and dragging the
cook's boy up by the hair of his head with the other. Being come on deck
he lead the urchin, crying lustily, towards Rodrigues, who was standing
not far from the roundhouse.
"I've watched the little hound as you bid me, your honor," says the man,
addressing Rodrigues; "and I ketched him sneaking down below with these
here, which he dropped when he sees me, whereby I knowed he was up to no
good."
"What are those?" asks Rodrigues, indicating the jar and the bundle.
"A noggin o' water, your honor," says the seaman; "and," he adds
(undoing the clout), "a mess o' wittles. Axed me not to tell you, your
honor."
"Whom were you taking those things to?" asks Rodrigues.
"No one, your honor," cries the boy, whimpering. "I was a-going to eat
'em myself."
"Whom were you taking them to?" Rodrigues repeats, in the same even
tone.
The boy looked at him, and, clasping his wretched little hands, cried
for mercy.
"Overboard with him," says Rodrigues.
A couple of men seized hold of him.
"Spare me! spare me!" cries the child. "I'll tell if you'll only spare
me."
"Out with it!" says Rodrigues.
"I was carrying 'em to Tonga."
Rodrigues hereupon nodded to a group of fellows, who, taking the boy for
their guide, went forward and so down the hatchway below. Meanwhile, the
captain turned upon his heel, so that he faced the window where Lady
Biddy was watching, and she observed that there was a malicious smile on
his wicked face, as though he was satisfied to find his surmise
justified. And while he was walking towards the coach with his head
bent, he raised his eyes, yet without lifting his head, and under his
black brows cast a strange glance at my lady.
Presently those men who had gone below returned, bringing with them the
boy and the negro. And this man was fearful to look on because of the
mess of dried blood upon him, an open wound in his shoulder, and the
sickness of fear in his face as he was haled before Rodrigues. Yet, for
all his fear, there was rage of passion in his eye as he caught sight of
Lady Biddy, and also when he looked at the boy, who shrank away from him
in dread.
"You look sick, Tonga. What has ailed you?" asked Rodrigues, as if he
looked to get a satisfactory answer.
Tonga nodded, and in a hoarse voice told, with such queer speech as
negroes use, how the heat had made him giddy, so that he fell down the
hatch into the hold, and lay there unable to move.
"You seem to have fallen on something that ought not to be in the hold,"
says Rodrigues, going close up to him and looking at his wound, the
fellow being stark naked to the waist. "It looks as if it had been done
with a knife. How's that?"
The negro swore he knew not how he had come by this wound.
"You can not tell me?" says Rodrigues, airily.
Tonga shook his head.
"You were so giddy you knew not what happened."
Tonga nodded, grinning, yet with little taste to mirth, but uneasily.
"Well," says Rodrigues, "we must hear what your little friend can tell
us about it. Come, my boy--what do you know about this business?"
The boy, shivering in every limb (as with a quartan), glanced at the
black, who returned a wicked look of warning.
"I know naught, your honor," cries the little fellow, "save that he
called to me from below for meat and drink."
"Nothing else?"
"Naught, your honor."
Then Rodrigues says a word to two of the seamen, who straightway ran to
the fore end and came back, bearing a long plank betwixt them; and this
they set athwart the bulwarks, a little less than midway of its length,
and with its longer end resting on a chest that stood over that way.
"Get up!" says Rodrigues.
The boy, not knowing what was toward, and mightily perplexed, did as he
was bidden, and so stood up facing Rodrigues. But one of the seamen,
cursing him for his went of manners--as he put it--twisted him round so
that he faced the sea.
"Walk!" cried Rodrigues, when the boy was thus positioned.
Whereupon the boy, still unwitting, walked forward towards the bulwarks
and there stopped.
"Walk!" cries Rodrigues, a little louder than heretofore.
Then the perplexed boy made another step forward, but seeing that if he
walked further he must overbalance the board, and so shoot into the sea
below, he stopped again.
"Walk!" cries Rodrigues again, this time whipping out his sword.
Then the boy, seeing the meaning of this, fell upon his knees, crying
for pity, and telling all he knew and had hitherto concealed--to wit,
that Tonga did make him draw the bolt of the trap in the captain's cabin
that morning he went for his silver-braided coat, and that it was from
the armory and not from the hold the black cried to him for drink, and
also that he had helped him to get down in the hold, and dared not do
otherwise for fear of his life.
"You hear this, Tonga," says Rodrigues. "Now will you tell me how you
got that cut?"
"She did it!" roars the negro, with the ferocity of any tiger, pointing
with his hand towards Lady Biddy, while flames of fire seemed to flash
in his eyes. "She did it!"