Captain Staunton and his companions were not allowed to remain long at
liberty; for as soon as the lady had retired, at a sign from
Daggerfeldt, the slaver's crew again attempted to lash their arms behind
them, not, however, without some resistance on the part of Hopkins and
Short. The most zealous in this work was the negro Mauro, who
contrived, as he was passing a rope round Captain Staunton's arm, to
whisper in his ear, "Make no resistance, senor, it is useless. You have
friends near you. Tell your followers to keep quiet. They can do
themselves no good."
Staunton accordingly told his men to follow his example, when they
quietly submitted to their fate. Before this, he had contemplated the
possibility of their being able to succeed in getting arms from the
arms-chest, and either selling their lives dearly, or jumping overboard
and attempting to reach the shore. In most slavers the lower deck is
devoted entirely to the slaves and the provisions, the men sleeping
under a topgallant-forecastle, or sometimes on the open deck, and the
captain and mates under the poop deck. There was, therefore, no spare
place in which to confine the prisoners, and they were accordingly told
to take up their quarters under an awning stretched between two guns in
the waist. This was better accommodation than they could have expected,
for not only were they sheltered partially from the dew, but were
screened from the observation of the crew, and were not subject to the
suffocating heat of the between-decks.
A night may, however, be more agreeably spent than on a hard plank, up
an African river, with a prospect of being sent to feed the alligators
in the morning, and the certainty of a long separation from one's
friends and country, not to speak of the nine hundred and ninety-nine
chances out of a thousand of one's losing one's health, if not one's
life, by the insatiable yellow-fever.
The reflections of Captain Staunton were most bitter. He thought not of
himself, but of her he had loved so long and faithfully; she would
believe him dead, and he knew how poignant would be her grief. He felt
sure that she would not be faithless to his memory, but months, even
years, might pass before he might escape, or have the means of informing
her of his existence. While these ideas were passing through his mind,
it was impossible to sleep. There were, too, the midnight noises of the
African clime: the croaking of frogs, the chirrup of birds, the howl of
wild beasts, the cries, if not of fish, of innumerable amphibious
animals of flesh and fowl, and, more than all, the groans and moans of
the unhappy beings confined in their noisome sepulchre below; all
combined to make a concert sounding as might the distant echoes of
Pandemonium. At length, however, towards the morning, nature gave way,
and he forgot himself and his unfortunates in slumber. It had not
lasted many minutes when he was aroused by a hand placed on his
shoulder, while a soft hush was whispered in his ear. At the same time
he felt that there was a knife employed in cutting the ropes which bound
his arms. Something told him that the person performing this office was
a friend, so he did not attempt to speak, but quietly waited to learn
what, he was next expected to do. Again the voice whispered in his
ear,--
"Arouse your companions, if possible, but beware that they do not speak
aloud; caution them in their ear as I did you--their heads are near
where yours lies."
The voice which spoke, from its silvery tones, Staunton felt certain was
that of a female, as was the hand which loosened his bonds. Without
hesitation, therefore, he did as he was desired, and putting his mouth
down to Hopkins's ear, he ordered him on his life not to utter a word.
Jack was awake in a moment, and alive to the state of affairs. They had
more difficulty in arousing Bob Short, who uttered several very
treacherous groans and grunts before he was quite awake, though he
fortunately did not speak. Had Captain Staunton been aware that a
sentry was actually posted outside the screen, he would have trembled
for their safety. Fortunately the man was fast asleep, reclining
against the bulwarks--a fact ascertained by Jack Hopkins, who poked his
head from under the screen to ascertain how the coast lay. Not a sound
was heard to give notice that any of the crew were stirring on deck.
Staunton, feeling that his best course was to trust implicitly to his
unseen guide, waited till he received directions how to proceed. He
soon felt himself pulled gently by the arm towards the nearest port,
which was sufficiently raised to enable him to pass through it. On
putting his head out, he perceived through the obscurity a canoe with a
single person in it, hanging on alongside the schooner. His guide
dropped noiselessly into it, and took her place in the stern; Staunton
cautiously followed, and seating himself in the afterthwart, found a
paddle put into his hands; Jack and Bob required no one to tell them
what to do, but quickly also took their places in the boat. As soon as
they were seated, the man who was first in the canoe shoved her off
gently from the side of the schooner; and while the guide directed their
course, began to paddle off rapidly towards the centre of the stream.
So dexterously did he apply his oar, that not a splash was heard, though
the canoe darted quickly along through the ink-like current without
leaving even a ripple in her wake. Not a word was uttered by any of the
party; every one seemed to be aware of the importance of silence, and
even Peter Palaver forebore to cut a joke, which he felt very much
inclined to do, as he found himself increasing his distance from the
black slaver.