Humphrey Bold: A Story of the Times of Benbow

Chapter 26

Chapter 262,810 wordsPublic domain

For some time I was in doubt whether the agonies Cludde had suffered would not prove fatal. He lay long unconscious, and when his eyes at last opened he shrieked aloud, with so wild a look in his eyes that I feared his reason was gone. But I, who had not left his side since he was loosed from the tree, spoke to him quietly, assuring him that he was safe, and gave him water to drink, and by and by he was soothed to quietude and slept like a tired child. And then I lay beside him, worn out with the stress and agitations of this long day, and together (strange chance!) we who had been mortal enemies found repose on the bosom of mother earth.

Night came down upon us, and the stars were blinking in the dark vault above when we awoke. Uncle Moses brought us food--birds the negroes had snared and roasted, and root plants they had grubbed up; and as we ate we talked.

"Bold," said Cludde huskily, "you've returned good for evil. You don't want my thanks; you hate me."

"I wonder if I do," I said, and pondering the matter, I came to the conclusion that I rather despised than hated him; but I did not tell him so. "How did you come to this strait?" I asked him.

"I came up to see Lucy, and happened to arrive just after that nigger had been caught. Vetch was flogging him, told me he was an insolent and lazy scoundrel, and I agreed he ought to be taught a lesson--"

"Even if it killed him," I interrupted.

"Why, he's only a black fellow," said Cludde.

"And black fellows are flesh and blood, like you and me."

"But they haven't our feelings; come now, you won't say that?"

I would not argue with: him, and he went on--"I came to the house, and Lucy refused to see me. I hated you then, Bold; Vetch told me that you had been up, and I guessed you had put a spoke in my wheel."

"I never saw Mistress Lucy," I said.

"What? Why, Vetch told me that you had proposed to her, and been sent away with a flea in your ear."

"That was a lie. But go on: I will tell you about myself presently."

"Well, I plucked up courage to go to the house again, and this time I was admitted and saw Lucy, and by heaven, Bold, I had no inkling of what had been going on."

"You might have guessed, knowing Vetch, whom your own father had sent out here," I said.

"But not for this," he said eagerly. "I beg you to believe me, Bold. I know there is much against me, but after that business at the turnpike I told Vetch I would countenance no more tricks of that sort--though I own I helped to arrange your kidnapping at Bristowe."

"'Twas an insult to Mistress Lucy to send Vetch out here," I said, refusing to compromise on this matter. "But go on, let me hear how you came to this."

"Lucy told me what tricks Vetch had been playing, and begged me to help her to get away from him, and burst into tears, and I can't stand a woman's tears. I sought Vetch, and I told him that he had gone too far, and bade him remember that, whether she married me or not, she is my cousin, and I wouldn't have her worried.

"'You've got my father's power of attorney,' I said to him, 'but that don't authorize you to do what you are doing.'

"And then the scoundrel rounded on me, and asked me with his infernal sneer what I thought he had come out to Jamaica for, and then, by heaven, Bold, he said that he was going to marry Lucy himself!"

At this I broke into a shout of laughter, the idea seemed so ridiculous; but my mirth gave place to a hot fit of anger when I remembered that the fellow had Lucy in his power.

"I laughed, too," said Cludde, "but 'tis no laughing matter. The villain has a parson to his hand--a besotted Cambridge fellow who has sunk to buccaneering with the pretty crew Vetch has about him. I said I'd see him hanged first; I've been sick of the fellow this long time; and then he threatened me, and in his blazing temper told me about the will which he stole--"

"You didn't know it?" I cried, astonished.

"Why, I'm not a saint, Bold," he said, "but I'm not so bad as that. Vetch told Sir Richard that his uncle had burned the will among some old papers by mistake, and was afraid to confess it, but he tells me now 'twas he stole it and hid it, and says that if I attempt to interfere with him he'll produce it and turn us out of our property--which is yours, Bold; and swear that he stole it at Sir Richard's request. And then I called him a villain to his face, and said I would go instantly back to Spanish Town and proclaim him for the scoundrel he is, and he laughed and said I should never get there alive.

"But his horse was standing by; he had just come in from riding; and before he knew what I was about I was in the saddle and galloped off. In my hurry I took the wrong road. The horse carried me into the forest and stumbled over a root, and down I went, and lay dazed for a time, and when I got up I wandered about, utterly lost, and fell among these niggers. You know the rest."

I fell silent, thinking of Vetch's villainy, and of the extremity of peril in which Lucy lay. That she would willingly wed him I did not for a moment believe; but in her helpless position I feared what she might be compelled to do under constraint.

"I know we have treated you very ill," said Cludde.

"I was not thinking of that," I said, interrupting him. "You can make amends, Cludde."

"And I will, Bold, on my honor I will, as soon as ever we get back to England."

"Before then," I said. "'Twill be too late then. You must help me to save Mistress Lucy."

"But what can we do? Her birthday is on Friday--"

"On Friday?" I said, to test his knowledge.

"Yes, Vetch told me so. She will be of age then, and even supposing we could escape his people we could not get to Spanish Town and back in time. I only wish we could do something. I would give a great deal to see Vetch get his deserts."

"We must get help from Spanish Town: we must do something ourselves--you and I and the niggers. We must attack the house."

"'Tis impossible. He has a score of cut-throat ruffians in his pay."

"At the house?"

"A dozen or so at the house, the rest about the plantations and on the road, to guard against surprise from Spanish Town or any of the settlements."

"Will you help me loyally, if I can find some means of rescuing Lucy?" I asked, for Cludde's attitude to me was so altered that I was not without suspicion of his sincerity.

"With all my heart; but we can do nothing."

"At present I see no way," I sorrowfully admitted; "but help her we must. Good heavens! Can we leave her at his mercy, and not make an effort on her behalf? We may fail, but let us at least do what men may do."

Then Cludde made me tell him what had happened to me. He fell asleep before I had finished my story, but I lay for long hours pondering this baffling problem, and wishing that I had Joe Punchard and my messmates of the Dolphin instead of negroes, whom I could scarce trust. 'Twas clear, as Cludde had said, that we were no match for the ruffians whom Vetch had about him; in open fight we should be worsted, and maybe hasten the very catastrophe I dreaded. Even if we should attempt a surprise by night I could not hope for success, for the least check would turn the negroes into a pack of howling cowards. We could only succeed by a ruse, and though I cudgelled my brains until all my thoughts were in a whirl I could invent no plan which had the least promise.

And it was Wednesday night! If we had not rescued Mistress Lucy within forty-eight hours I had a strong presentiment that 'twould be too late.

I sank at last into a sleep of sheer exhaustion. When I awoke, day had dawned, and with the return to consciousness there came a sudden recollection of something told me by Uncle Moses--something that explained the fact that only two horsemen had ridden in pursuit of us. All the horses of the estate had been employed in conveying sugar to Dry Harbor. They had been gone a day; when would they return?

I sprang up in haste to get an answer to this question; for on it depended the chances of a plot which had flashed upon my mind. Uncle Moses told me that, if the usual course were followed, the wagons would return on Friday, either empty, or with loads of salt fish, which formed the staple of the negro's food. I asked what men would accompany the convoy, and learned that the wagoners were negroes, and that one or two white men would be in charge.

This information threw a ray of hope upon my dark forebodings. If we could but win to a position where the returning convoy might be intercepted, I made no doubt we could overpower the white men--overseers of the plantations; as to the negro drivers, I held them of little account. There was one possible danger: that the customary escort might be augmented by some of Vetch's buccaneers. But I saw no likelihood of this, for however careful Vetch might be in his watch over Mistress Lucy, he would have no reason to be specially vigilant over the conduct of the ordinary operations of the estate.

The question was, could we by any means come unobserved at a place where the wagons could be intercepted? I put it to Uncle Moses, who answered me readily enough, not seeing the drift of it. If we crossed the swamp, and retraced our way through the forest, we could skirt the whole length of the plantation without fear of being discovered until we arrived within a very short distance of the road to Spanish Town. We should then have to cross the road in the open, but having crossed it, we should come in less than a furlong to another clump of woodland, and passing through this, avoiding the plantain groves which filled that portion of the estate, we should reach the rough track leading to Dry Harbor, at a point about three miles from the big house. 'Twas a round in all of some twenty-five miles, and, as Uncle Moses assured me, if we were reasonably cautious we should run no risks save at the crossing of the road.

In great elation of spirit I now took into consultation Cludde with Uncle Moses, Noah, and Jacob, all of whom I felt I could trust, because all had suffered. I told them what I proposed, and whether it was the story I had told of the wondrous good fortune that had befallen me through the crown piece, or whether their own native courage and their thirst for revenge influenced them, I know not; but certain it is that the negroes agreed at once to follow my lead.

Considering then how the rest of my party should be made up, I decided, with the assent of Uncle Moses, to take only two more men, these being all who had fled from the Cludde estate. I thought it better that none but those who had a personal interest in the welfare of Mistress Lucy, and who had reason to deplore the iron rule of Vetch, should be enlisted in the enterprise. The sixth and seventh members of the expedition having been brought into the council, we talked over the details of the scheme so far as we could foresee them. My general plan was to surprise the convoy, to conceal ourselves--myself and Cludde--in one of the wagons, and, thus gaining the house unsuspected, to steal our way in and then act as chance might order.

Since we knew not how we might be taxed if we should succeed in reaching the house, and a march of twenty-five miles in the heat of the day would greatly impair our energies, we decided to set off at once (this being Thursday), and spend the night in the forest at a spot not far distant from the road. The negroes by themselves would never have consented to this plan, so great was their dread of bugaboos, but they derived courage from the companionship of white men, and, to stiffen their resolution, I told them how, when wearing the crown piece about my neck, I had escaped by night with nine companions from a place with stone walls ten feet thick. This impressed them greatly--Noah in particular; and in the evening, when we halted for our bivouac in the forest, he came to me holding the string on which the coin was suspended, and put it into my hand, saying:

"Dis white man's duppy. Massa hab it dis time; Massa got through stone wall, get through anything. Den I hab it again when Massa done wid it."

I smiled and was hesitating whether to sling it round my neck or to give it back when Cludde asked me what was the meaning of this strange talk. As I did not answer at once, Uncle Moses broke in.

"Massa gib dat silver so dat you not be burned, sah. Noah will hab eber so much more bimeby, 'nuff to buy him free, sah."

Cludde looked at me inquiringly.

"'Tis true, Cludde," I said. "I had to buy you off."

"But I don't understand," he said. "A crown piece?"

"Oh!" said I, feeling a little uneasy lest he should probe this matter of the crown piece too far, "the negro has the mind of a child. The price of his freedom is five hundred dollars: he wouldn't take my word for that sum, but the sight of a coin was enough."

"But you told me the buccaneers stripped you of your money," he said, with a look of puzzlement.

"So they did, but I happened to have this crown piece slung about my neck under my shirt, and it escaped their attention."

"Egad, I should never have believed you were superstitious," he said with a laugh, and I laughed back, glad enough that I had escaped further interrogation.

I returned the coin to Noah, assuring him that I had no further need of it, and he went away well pleased, assured of the protection of the white man's duppy--the token of the good spirits which he venerates as much as he fears the bugaboos.

I was not to get off after all. When we lay side by side on the grass, Cludde was for a long time silent; then he said abruptly, with a keen look at me:

"Bold, do you remember I flung a crown piece at you when I passed you on the Worcester road years ago!"

"I believe you did," said I, prevaricating.

"Is that the coin?"

"Why, Cludde," says I, "there are thousands of crown pieces in the world."

"Is it?" he persisted.

"Why should you suppose it is?" I said.

"Why did you keep it? Come, I must know."

"Oh, confound you, Cludde," I said, "why don't you let me go to sleep?"

"You had some design in keeping that coin," he said; "I want to know what it was."

"Well, if you insist," I said, "I meant to keep it until I could return it to you with interest. But Fate, you see, has found a better use for it."

"Bold," says he, after a silence, "you're a good fellow and a generous--"

"Belay there, Cludde," I said, anxious to cut him short, "we'll cry quits over all the past. Intus si recte ne labora--you remember the old school motto. We're friends, and all we have to worry about now is how to dish Cyrus Vetch; and as we shall be none the worse for a long sleep, I'll take first watch, and wake you when you've had three or four hours."

And with a grip of hands we closed the enmity of a dozen years.