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Far quicker than before he reached the glade, but, as before, he found it untenanted! _No_ Englishman was under the _ceiba_--no human being in sight.
As soon as he had fairly recovered breath, he bethought him of shouting.
His voice might be of avail in guiding the wanderer to the glade; for Cubina now felt convinced that the young Englishman was straying-- perhaps wandering through the woods at no great distance from the spot.
His shouts might be heard; and although the stranger might not recognise the voice, the circ.u.mstances were such that he might understand the object for which it was put forth.
Cubina shouted, first at a moderate pitch, then hallooed with all the strength of his lungs.
No answer, save the wood echoes.
Again and again: still no response.
"_Crambo_!" exclaimed he, suddenly thinking of a better means of making his presence known. "He may hear my horn! He may remember that, and know it. If he's anywhere within a mile, I'll make him hear it."
The Maroon raised the horn to his lips and blew a long, loud blast--then another, and another.
There was a response to that signal; but not such as the young Englishman might have been expected to make. Three shrill bugle blasts, borne back upon the breeze, seemed the echoes of his own.
But the Maroon knew they were not. On hearing them, he let the horn drop to his side, and stood in an att.i.tude to listen.
Another--this time a single wind--came from the direction of the former.
"Three and one," muttered the Maroon; "it's Quaco. He needn't have sounded the last, for I could tell his _tongue_ from a thousand. He's on his way back from Savanna-la-Mer--though I didn't expect him to return so soon. So much the better--I may want him."
On finis.h.i.+ng the muttered soliloquy, the Maroon captain stood as if considering.
"_Crambo_!" he muttered after a pause, and in a tone of vexation. "What has become of this young fellow? I must sound again--lest Quaco's horn may have misled him. This time, lieutenant, hold your tongue!"
So saying, and speaking as if the "lieutenant" was by his side, he raised the horn once more to his lips, and blew a single blast--giving it an intonation quite different from the others.
After an interval of silence, he repeated the call in notes exactly similar, and then, after another pause, once again.
To none of these signals did the "tongue" of Quaco make reply; but shortly after, that worthy responded to the original summons by presenting himself _in propria persona_.
Volume Three, Chapter VII.
QUACO'S QUEER ENCOUNTER.
Quaco came into the glade carrying a large bundle upon his back--under which he had trudged all the way from Savanna-la-Mer.
He was naked to the breech-cloth--excepting the hog-skin greaves upon his shanks, and the old brimless hat upon his head. This, however, was all the costume Quaco ever wore--all, indeed, that he owned; for, notwithstanding that he was the lieutenant, his uniform was no better than that of the meanest private of the band.
His captain, therefore, exhibited no surprise at the scantiness of Quaco's clothing; but what did surprise Cubina was the air with which he entered the glade, and some other circ.u.mstances that at once arrested his attention.
The skin of the colossus was covered with a white sweat that appeared to be oozing from every pore of his dark epidermis. This might have been occasioned by his long walk--the last hour of it under a broiling sun, and carrying weight, as he was: for the bag upon his back appeared a fifty-pounder, at least, to say nothing of a large musket balanced upon the top of it.
None of these circ.u.mstances, however, would account for that inexplicable expression upon his countenance--the wild rolling of his yellow eyeb.a.l.l.s--the quick, hurried step, and uncouth gesticulations by which he was signalising his approach.
Though, as already stated, they had arrested the attention of his superior, the latter, accustomed to a certain reserve in the presence of his followers, pretended not to notice them. As his lieutenant came up, he simply said:--
"I am glad you are come, Quaco."
"An' a'm glad, Cappin Cubina, I've foun' ye har. War hurryin' home fa.s.s as my legs cud carry me, 'spectin' to find ye thar."
"Ha!" said Cubina; "some news, I suppose. Have you met anyone in the woods--that young Englishman from the Jew's penn? I'm expecting him here. He appears to have missed the way."
"Han't met no Englishman, Cappin. Cussos Vaughan am that--I'se a met _him_!"
"_Crambo_!" cried Cubina, starting as he uttered the exclamation.
"You've met Custos Vaughan? When and where?"
"When--dis mornin'. Where--'bout fo' mile b'yond the crossin' on the Carrion Crow road. That's where I met _him_."
The emphasis upon the last word struck upon the ear of Cubina. It seemed to imply that Quaco, on his route, had encountered others.
"Anybody else, did you meet?" he inquired, hurriedly, and with evident anxiety as to the answer.
"Ya-as, Cappin," drawled out the lieutenant, with a coolness strongly in contrast with his excited manner on entering the glade. But Quaco saw that his superior was waiting for the coming of the young Englishman, and that he need not hurry the communication he was about to make.
"Ya-as, I met ole Plute, the head driver at Moun' Welcome. He was ridin' 'longside o' the Cussos, by way o' his escort."
"n.o.body else?"
"Not jess then," answered Quaco, evidently holding back the most interesting item of news he had to communicate. "Not jess then, Cappin Cubina."
"But afterwards? Speak out, Quaco! Did you meet anyone going on the same road?"
The command, with the impatient gesture that accompanied it, brought Quaco to a quicker confession than he might have volunteered.
"I met, Cappin Cubina," said he, his cheeks bulging with the importance of the communication he was about to make, while his eyes rolled like "twin jelly b.a.l.l.s" in their sockets--"I met next, not a _man_, but a _ghost_!"
"A ghost?" said Cubina, incredulously. "A duppy, I sw'ar by the great Accompong--same as I saw before--the ghost of ole Chakra!"
The Maroon captain again made a start, which his lieutenant attributed to surprise at the announcement he had made.
Cubina did not undeceive him as to the cause.
"And where?" interrogated he, in hurried phrase. "Where did you meet the ghost?"
"I didn't zackly meet it," answered Quaco. "I only seed it on the road afore me--'bout a hundred yards or tharaway. I wor near enuf to be sure o' it--and it was Chakra's ghost--jess as I seed him t'other day up thar by the Duppy Hole. The old villain can't sleep in his grave. He's about these woods yet."
"How far was it from where you met Mr Vaughan?"
"Not a great way, Cappin. 'Bout a quarrer o' a mile, I shed think.
Soon as it spied me, it tuk to the bushes, and I seed no more on it. It was atter daylight, and the c.o.c.ks had crowed. I heard 'em crowing at ole Jobson's plantation close by, and, maybe, that sent the duppy a-scuttlin' into the river."
"We must wait no longer for this young man--we must be gone from here, Quaco."
And as Cubina expressed this intention, he appeared about to move away from the spot.