CHAPTER XXIII.
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 toburst open the trap and take revenge for the wound I had dealt him, andI have good reason to believe that this was his intent and purpose, forstanding on the hatch to lend strength to the bolt that secured it, Ifelt it move beneath my feet; nay, the very boards cracked under theforce of his broad shoulders against it.
But this prodigious effort was too much for the strength of the woundedwretch. 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 theground.
After that we heard no movement below, nor any sound whatever; neitherwas any further attempt made to raise the trap.
Seeing that Lady Biddy was very much overwrought by this excitement andher previous want of rest, I implored her to return to the other cabinand seek repose--pointing out that we had no more to fear from theblack, and promising that, should anything happen to the contrary, Iwould not fail to let her know. And listening at length to mypersuasions, 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 fallasleep. For my own part, I spent the rest of that night seated on thehatch, never once closing my eyes or relaxing my watch.
In the morning Lady Biddy, coming to me, whispered that search was beingmade for the negro; indeed, I could with my own ears hear the menbellowing in different parts, "Tonga! Tonga!" which was the name of thisfellow.
I bade Lady Biddy go back again to her cabin, and seem to know nothingof what this search meant.
Soon after she had returned there, Rodrigues comes to her, and, with avast show of respect and consideration, begged she would have patienceto wait a little while for her breakfast, as the cook was not at hispost, and could not be found.
"I remarked his manner was strange all day yesterday," says he, "and itis 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 shallnot interfere with your convenience, for I will dress your victuals withmy own hands rather than they shall be ill-served." And with this politespeech he makes his _conge_ and leaves my lady.
At noon, when the boy had served the dinner, Rodrigues came again toapologize for the quality of the food, saying that they had run short ofprovisions with having been so long at sea, but that he hoped to provideher with fresh meat and fruit before twenty-four hours, as land was insight, and he counted to cast anchor the following morning.
Lady Biddy replied as graciously as she could to one whom she so loathedand despised, and in this (despite her natural repugnance to hypocrisyor deceit) her wit was aided by the comfort of this news, and theknowledge that our chance of escape would be greatly aided by lullingRodrigues' suspicion.
He said not a word about marriage, and indeed behaved himself withbecoming civility; and to make him believe that he had succeeded inproducing a more favorable impression on herself, Lady Biddy begged him,when he was going, to leave the door wide open that she might have thebenefit of the air.
About two o'clock, when all the company were resting (for in theselatitudes 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 whathad passed and how we were nearing land.
"But," says she, "if we come to an anchor in the morning, will it bepossible to escape in broad daylight?"
"No," says I; "that we can not, unless we should get away when all aretaking their noon rest. But there is no necessity to run great peril byhaste. Water, I doubt not, is what is much needed. As Rodrigues saidnothing about reaching a port, it is pretty evident he is running toland for the immediate refreshment of his company. They will not becontent getting on shore to embark again at once even if they succeed infinding a freshet for the filling of their barrels. Any way I feelcertain we shall not lift anchor again for twenty-four hours, and thatwill 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 mymind a hundred schemes for our deliverance; yet none could I hit on butwhat seemed desperate in the extreme.
Nothing occurred to disturb Lady Biddy's repose the succeeding night, toher great refreshment no less to my satisfaction.
Shortly after daybreak there was much bustle on deck, and presently Iheard the anchor drop, whereupon, as if the moment of our release werecome, my heart bounded with joy, and I scraped at the wall to awake LadyBiddy. By her quick reply, I knew that the sound had aroused her, andshe had divined its meaning.
Then there arose a great hallooing and shouting amongst the men, whoseemed no less pleased than we, though from another cause. But there wasyet much to be done before a boat could be sent ashore. However, thefellows set about their work with a will, and now there was nothing butsinging and laughing over it, whereas before they had gone about theirbusiness in sullen silence.
It may have been about eight o'clock when the merriment on board was ofa sudden hushed, and Lady Biddy, looking from the door to see what thismight mean, perceived a seaman coming up the hatchway in the fore partof the ship, with a jar and a bundle in one hand, and dragging thecook's boy up by the hair of his head with the other. Being come on deckhe lead the urchin, crying lustily, towards Rodrigues, who was standingnot 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 thesehere, which he dropped when he sees me, whereby I knowed he was up to nogood."
"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, yourhonor."
"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 eventone.
The boy looked at him, and, clasping his wretched little hands, criedfor 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 spareme."
"Out with it!" says Rodrigues.
"I was carrying 'em to Tonga."
Rodrigues hereupon nodded to a group of fellows, who, taking the boy fortheir guide, went forward and so down the hatchway below. Meanwhile, thecaptain turned upon his heel, so that he faced the window where LadyBiddy was watching, and she observed that there was a malicious smile onhis wicked face, as though he was satisfied to find his surmisejustified. And while he was walking towards the coach with his headbent, he raised his eyes, yet without lifting his head, and under hisblack brows cast a strange glance at my lady.
Presently those men who had gone below returned, bringing with them theboy and the negro. And this man was fearful to look on because of themess of dried blood upon him, an open wound in his shoulder, and thesickness of fear in his face as he was haled before Rodrigues. Yet, forall his fear, there was rage of passion in his eye as he caught sight ofLady Biddy, and also when he looked at the boy, who shrank away from himin dread.
"You look sick, Tonga. What has ailed you?" asked Rodrigues, as if helooked to get a satisfactory answer.
Tonga nodded, and in a hoarse voice told, with such queer speech asnegroes use, how the heat had made him giddy, so that he fell down thehatch 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, thefellow being stark naked to the waist. "It looks as if it had been donewith a knife. How's that?"
The negro swore he knew not how he had come by this wound.
&
nbsp; "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 tellus about it. Come, my boy--what do you know about this business?"
The boy, shivering in every limb (as with a quartan), glanced at theblack, who returned a wicked look of warning.
"I know naught, your honor," cries the little fellow, "save that hecalled 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 tothe fore end and came back, bearing a long plank betwixt them; and thisthey 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 hewas 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 sothat he faced the sea.
"Walk!" cried Rodrigues, when the boy was thus positioned.
Whereupon the boy, still unwitting, walked forward towards the bulwarksand there stopped.
"Walk!" cries Rodrigues, a little louder than heretofore.
Then the perplexed boy made another step forward, but seeing that if hewalked further he must overbalance the board, and so shoot into the seabelow, 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, cryingfor 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 cabinthat morning he went for his silver-braided coat, and that it was fromthe armory and not from the hold the black cried to him for drink, andalso that he had helped him to get down in the hold, and dared not dootherwise for fear of his life.
"You hear this, Tonga," says Rodrigues. "Now will you tell me how yougot that cut?"
"She did it!" roars the negro, with the ferocity of any tiger, pointingwith his hand towards Lady Biddy, while flames of fire seemed to flashin his eyes. "She did it!"