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Hunting the Skipper: The Cruise of the "Seafowl" Sloop, a fiction by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 35. Black Caesar |
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_ CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE. BLACK CAESAR Murray made a dash at the black and caught him by the arm, while Tom May sprang to the other side, for, startled by the sudden movement of the midshipman, the poor fellow winced and looked as if about to run. "No, no," cried Murray; "it's all right, Caesar. Show us directly where Mr Allen is." "Yes," whispered the man; "but no tell Massa Huggin. Him kill Caesar for sure. Caesar very frighten." "You shan't be hurt, boy," cried the middy. "Now then; lead us to where Mr Allen is. Quick!" The black nodded his head, gave a sharp glance round, and then with trembling hand caught hold of Murray's wrist and led him into the hall again, closely followed by the lieutenant and Tom May, who was as watchful as if he felt sure that their guide was bent upon making his escape. "Shall I follow with some of the men, sir?" said Roberts, who was in a state of fret from the fear of missing anything that was about to take place. "No, it is not necessary," said Mr Anderson. "I beg pardon, sir," cried Murray; "from what this black fellow has said, I think you ought to have some of the men with us." "Oh, very well, then," cried the lieutenant, "bring half-a-dozen of the lads with you, Mr Roberts;" and the hall had a very business-like aspect as, to Murray's great disgust, Caesar led him into the study. "Why, what are you doing, man?" he cried. "Mr Allen is not in here. I've searched the place three times." The black looked up at him quickly and showed his teeth; but it was in no grin of cunning, for the poor fellow's face looked muddy and strange. "Caesar know," he whispered hoarsely, and the midshipman felt the fingers which gripped his wrist twitch and jerk as he was pulled towards the corner of the room just beyond the window. Here the black stopped short, trembling violently, and pointed downward, before darting back, loosening Murray's wrist and making for the door. "Stop him, Roberts," cried Murray; but his words were needless, for the way of exit was completely blocked by the midshipman and his men. "What does he mean by all this?" said Mr Anderson angrily. "I don't quite know, sir," cried Murray; but he followed and caught the black by the arm. "Come," he continued; "show us where Mr Allen is." "Caesar berry frighten', massa," whispered the poor fellow, whose teeth were chattering; but he yielded to Murray's hand and followed him back towards the corner of the little room, where his eyes assumed a fixed and staring look as he leaned forward and pointed downward at the thick rug of fur which covered that part of the floor. "What does he mean?" cried the lieutenant. "Is the planter buried there?" "Show us what you mean," cried Murray, and he tried to draw the black forward; but the poor fellow dropped upon his knees, resisting with all his might, and, with eyes starting and rolling and teeth chattering, he kept on pointing downward, darting his index finger at the floor. "I beg pardon, sir," said Tom May gruffly. "I think I know what he means." "What is it, then?" cried Murray. "It's snakes, sir, same as I heered up-stairs." "Perhaps so," said the lieutenant, "so take care; some of these serpents creep into the houses here, and they are very poisonous. Mind what you are about, Mr Murray. Let the black pull the rug away. Mr Roberts, a couple of your men here with cutlasses. Be smart, my lads, and strike the moment the brute is uncovered." "Ay, ay, sir!" came in a chorus from the guard; but every Jack stood fast, waiting for his fellows to volunteer. "Pull the rug away, Caesar," said Murray, as soon as the men had been ordered to advance, which they did after making a great show of spitting in their hands to get a good grip of the cutlasses they drew. "No, no, no, massa. Caesar 'fraid, sah. Massa Huggin kill poor Caesar dead, for show." "Is there a snake there, darkie?" said the lieutenant impatiently. "No, massa. No, massa," panted the poor fellow. "Caesar brave boy; no frighten snake. Massa Huggin kill um for show." "What does he mean? Master Huggin will make a show of him?" "No, sir," cried Murray. "He's afraid of being murdered for showing the way. I have it, sir," he said now excitedly. "That explains everything. There's a way out here;" and stooping down the middy seized one corner of the rug, gave it a sharp jerk, and laid bare what seemed to be a trap-door neatly made in the polished floor. A murmur of excitement ran through the room, and Murray exclaimed-- "Then the poor fellow has been killed, Tom." "And buried, sir, seemingly," growled the sailor; and without waiting for orders, he went down on one knee to raise the broad square flap, while the black shrank a little more away where he knelt, and began rubbing his hands together excitedly. "Well, my lad," cried Mr Anderson, "be smart! You're not afraid, are you?" "Not a bit, sir," growled the big sailor; "but there seems to be some sort o' dodgery over this here hatchway. You see, there arn't no ring-bolt." "Take your cutlass to it, Tom," said Murray; and as he spoke he drew his dirk. "Ay, ay, sir; that'll do it," replied the sailor, and directly after the middy and he began to force in the edges of their blades so as to try and prise open the trap. "Come, come, come," cried the lieutenant, "don't bungle like that;" and he drew his sword. "Let me try." Murray made way, and the officer began to try and force in the edge of his service blade. "Humph! Dear me!" he muttered. "The floor is made of mahogany. Very hard wood. Not so easy as I thought, May, my lad." A broad smile covered the big sailor's countenance as he watched his officer's failure. "Ay, ay, sir!" he growled. "Beg pardon, sir; you'll be breaking your sword." "Yes, my lad, and I don't want to do that," said the lieutenant. "Here, hallo! What do you mean by that? Look here, Mr Murray; your nigger is trying to tell you how to do it. He knows all about it. Let him try." For, as if recovering somewhat from his abject dread, the black knelt and shuffled about as if longing to perform the task himself. "Yes, sir, that's it," said the midshipman eagerly. "Now then, Caesar, show us how it's done." But this only made the black shrink away more and more, and begin shaking his head violently and resuming the pointing as before. "Here, he must be made to show how it is done," cried the lieutenant impatiently. "We cannot waste time like this." "I think I can manage now, sir," said Murray, for just then the black caught hold of his hand, slipped his own up the lad's wrist, and pressed him to one side of the square trap that refused to open. The rest was plain, for it soon became clear that, though the black was afraid to do anything towards opening the trap himself, he was quite ready to use the hands of another party for the purpose. "Oh, that's it, is it, Caesar?" cried Murray, who now submitted himself entirely to the slave's direction and let him press his hands down with a thrusting movement upon one of the floor-boards, with the result that the square trap glided away smoothly as if running upon rollers, while a dark opening appeared, showing a flight of ladder stairs running down into what seemed to be total darkness. "A subterranean passage leading somewhere or another." "It is the way out by which Mr Allen went," said Murray excitedly. "Escaped, you mean," cried the lieutenant. "Perhaps so, sir; but mayn't it be that he has been taken away by his enemies?" suggested Murray. "Well, that we have to see," replied the lieutenant. "Look here, Caesar," said Murray, addressing the black, "has Mr Allen gone this way?" The black took a step or two towards the opening, listened, looked round cautiously, and then took hold of the lad's arm and drew him away, to whisper in his ear-- "Massa Huggin come and fesh him away." "Then you think this Master Huggins is down there?" The black nodded his head quickly and then pointed to the sailors, ran first to one and then to another and touched their swords and the muskets they carried, before pointing downward to the concealed flight of steps. "I can understand that, Mr Murray," said the lieutenant. "He wants us to go down armed and follow the steps to where they lead; but we must have lights. Humph!" he added. "The fellow understands English well enough." For the black darted to a corner closet, opened the door, and took out a bottle, a box and a silver candlestick which stood all ready, a wax taper which the black placed upon the side-table, and then, as cleverly as if he had seen it done scores of times, he took the stopper out of the little bottle, from which a strong odour of phosphorus arose, took a match from the box, and thrust it into the bottle, with the result that he brought it out burning, after the fashion of our fathers' time before the invention of lucifer matches and congreve lights--a fashion adopted when a letter had been written and the writer, who knew not adhesive envelopes and desired to seal his missive, made use of the phosphorus bottle instead of producing a light with a flint and steel. "Well done," said the lieutenant. "Now then, are you going to light the way?" The black shook his head and shrank away once more. "We're to do it ourselves, it seems, Mr Murray;" and the lieutenant drew his sword. "I'll trouble you to light me, sir, for I must lead the way. Come, Mr Roberts, you can lead the men, and you will keep close up. Draw--no, no, leave that dress ornament in its scabbard. You too, Mr Murray. Take two of the men's cutlasses, and they can use their muskets. Here, darkie, are you coming too?" "Yes, Massa buccra officer. Caesar come show the way. You no let Massa Huggin kill poor niggah?" "That I promise you, my good fellow," said the lieutenant. "Now, Mr Murray, forward, please." To the surprise of all present the black stepped quickly to the top of the stairs, and kneeling down thrust his head over and seemed to listen attentively before placing a hand upon the floor upon either side of the opening and lowering himself down. "Massa come along quick. Nobody here." "How's that?" cried Murray. "Isn't Mr Allen there?" "No, massa. Him gone along Massa Huggin--take him right away, so him no tell Bri'sh officer where all de slabes hid ashore, and whar to fine de slaber ship." "Light is beginning to dawn into my benighted intellect now, Mr Murray," said the lieutenant, following the midshipman, as, carefully sheltering the little taper from the damp wind which seemed to blow up from the hole in the floor, the lad stepped down quickly after the black. "And it seems to me, for your comfort, my lad, that you need not be in the slightest degree alarmed at the prospect of facing the captain and being called to account for the loss of your prisoner, for your loss is going to turn out a great gain. Here, follow close up with the men, Mr Roberts. No, not next; I'll have May behind me; he's big and strong, and he's something to depend upon if we have a sudden attack." Roberts winced and frowned, for he felt as if his dignity had been a little touched at being put aside to make way for the big sailor, and in addition the chief officer had spoken in a way which made matters take a different turn from what he had expected. If any one had asserted that he was a bit jealous and envious of his brother middy he would have denied it with indignation, but all the same there was a something near akin to envy somewhere in his breast, and he would have liked it a great deal better if he had been called upon to play several of the parts which somehow would fall to Murray's share. So Dick Roberts frowned as he grasped the clumsy cutlass that had been handed to him by one of the men, and then after four of the party had received orders to mount guard at the entrance to the subterranean way, he followed closely upon Tom May's bulky form, ready to help protect those who had gone before; and grasping his weapon very tightly he stood at last at the foot of the stairs in a well-paved arched way just lit faintly by the wax taper, and was able to see that the passage was composed of the lava which had been quarried from one of the volcanic masses thrown from a burning mountain ages before. "Keep together, my lads, close up," said the lieutenant; and his voice sounded whispering and strange as it seemed to reverberate down a passage, and finally died away. "Where does this lead to, I wonder?" said the midshipman softly, and the walls repeated "I wonder" in a tone that sounded loud. _ |
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