CHAPTER X--BENEE MAKES A STRANGE DISCOVERY

Benee followed them into Roland's quiet study, and placed his strange grass-girt bundle on a cane chair.

Roland gave him a goblet of wine-and-water, which he drank eagerly, for he was faint and tired.

"Now, let us hear quickly what you have to say, Benee."

The Indian came forward, and his words, though uttered with some vehemence, and accompanied by much gesticulation, were delivered in almost a whisper.

It would have been impossible for any eavesdropper in the hall to have heard.

"Wat I tellee you 'bout dat Peter?" he began.

"My good friend," said Roland, "Peter accuses you of being a spy and traitor."

"I killee he!"

"No, you will not; if Peter is guilty, I will see that justice overtakes him."

"Well, 'fore I go, sah, I speakee you and say I bringee you de good news."

"Tell us quickly!" said Dick in a state of great excitement.

"Dis, den, is de good news: Missie Peggy not dead! No, no!"

"Explain, Benee, and do not raise false hopes in our breasts."

"De cannibals make believe she murder; dat all is."

"But have we not found portions of her raiment, her blood-dripping stockings, and also her charred remains?"

"Listen, sah. Dese cannibals not fools. Dey beat you plenty of trail, so you can easily find de clearing where de fire was. Dey wis' you to go to dat tree to see de blood, de shoe, and all. But when you seekee de trail after, where is she? Tellee me dat. Missie Peggy no murder. No, no. She am carried away, far away, as one prisint to de queen ob de cannibals."

"What were the bones, my good Benee?"

Then Benee opened his strange bundle, and there fell on the floor the half-burned skull and jaws of a gigantic baboon.

"I find dat hid beside de tree. Ha, ha!"

"It is all clear now," said Roland. "My dear, faithful Benee," he continued, "can you guide us to the country of the cannibals? You will meet your reward, both here and hereafter."

"I not care. I lub Missie Peggy. Ah, she come backee once moh, foh true!"

And now Dick Temple, the impulsive, must step forward and seize Benee by the hand. "God bless you!" he said; and indeed it was all he could say.

When the Indian had gone, Roland and Dick drew closer together.

"The mystery," said the former, "seems to me, Dick, to be as dark and intricate as ever. I can understand the savages carrying poor Peggy away, but why the tricky deceit, the dropped shoe that poor, noble Brawn picked up, the pool of blood, the rent and torn garments, and the half-charred bones?"

"Well, I think I can see through that, Roland. I believe it was done to prevent your further pursuit; for, as Benee observes, the trail is left plainly enough for even a white man to see as far as the 'fire-tree' and on to the brook. But farther there is none."

"Well, granting all this; think you, Dick, that no one instigated them, probably even suggested the crime and the infernal deceit they have practised?"

"Now you are thinking of, if not actually accusing, Mr. Peter?"

"I am, Dick. I have had my suspicions of him ever since a month after he came. It was strange how Benee hated him from the beginning, to say nothing of Brawn, the dog, and our dear lost Peggy."

"Cheer up!" said Dick. "Give Peter a show, though things look dark against him."

"Yes," said Roland sternly, "and with us and our expedition he must and shall go. We can watch his every move, and if I find that he is a villain, may God have mercy on his soul! His body shall feed the eagles."

Dick Temple was a wild and reckless boy, it is true, and always first, if possible, in any adventure which included a spice of danger, but he had a good deal of common sense notwithstanding.

He mused a little, and rolled himself a fresh cigarette before he replied.

"Your Mr. Peter," he said, "may or may not be guilty of duplicity, though I do not see the _raison d'etre_ for any such conduct, and I confess to you that I look upon lynching as a wild kind of justice. At the same time I must again beg of you, Roland, to give the man a decent show."

"Here is my hand on that, Dick. He shall have justice, even should that just finish with his dangling at a rope's end."

The two shortly after this parted for the night, each going to his own room, but I do not think that either of them slept till long past midnight.

They were up in good time, however, for the bath, and felt invigorated and hungry after the dip.

They were not over-merry certainly, but Mrs. St. Clair was quite changed, and just a little hysterically hilarious. For as soon as he had tubbed, Roland had gone to her bedroom and broken the news to her which Benee had brought.

That same forenoon Dick and Roland rode out to the forest.

They could hear the boom and shriek and roar of the great buzz-saw long before they came near the white-men's quarters.

They saw Jake,--and busy enough he was too,--and told him that they had some reason to doubt the honesty or sincerity of Mr. Peter, and that they would take him along with them.

"Thank God!" said Jake most fervently. "I myself cannot trust a man whom a dog like Brawn and a savage like Benee have come to hate."

By themselves that day the young fellows completed their plans, and all would now be ready to advance in a week's time.

That same day, however, on parade and in presence of Mr. Peter, Roland made a little speech.

"We are going," he said, "my good fellows, on a very long and adventurous journey. Poor Miss Peggy is, as we all know" (this was surely a fib that would be forgiven) "dead and gone, but we mean to follow these savages up to their own country, and deal them such a blow as will paralyse them for years. Yellow Charlie yonder is himself one of their number, but he has proved himself faithful, and has offered to be our guide as soon as we enter unknown regions.

"I have," he added, "perfect faith in my white men, faith in Mr. Peter, whom I am taking with me--"

Peter took a step forward as if to speak, but Roland waved him back.

"And I know my working Indians will prove themselves good men and true.

"After saying this, it is hardly necessary to add that if anyone is found attempting to desert our column, even should it be Burly Bill himself" (Burly Bill laughed outright), "he will be shot down as we would shoot a puma or alligator."

There was a wild cheer after Roland stepped down from the balcony, and in this Mr. Peter seemed to join so heartily that Roland's heart smote him.

For perhaps, after all, he had been unkind in thought to this man.

Time alone would tell.

The boys determined to leave nothing to chance, but ammunition was of even more importance than food. They hoped to find water everywhere, and the biscuits carried, with the roots they should dig, would serve to keep the expedition alive and healthy, with the aid of their good guns.

Medicine was not forgotten, nor medical comforts.

For three whole days Roland trained fast-running Indians to pick up a trail. A man would be allowed to have three miles' start, and then, when he was quite invisible, those human sleuth-hounds would be let loose, and they never failed to bring back their prisoner after a time.

One man at least was much impressed by these trials of skill.

Just a week before the start, and late in the evening, Benee once more presented himself before our young heroes.

"I would speakee you!"

"Well, Benee, say what you please, but all have not yet retired. Dick, get out into the hall, and warn us if anyone approaches."

Dick jumped up, threw his cigarette away, and did as he was told.

"Thus I speakee you and say," said Benee. "You trustee I?"

"Assuredly!"

"Den you let me go?"

"How and where?"

"I go fast as de wind, fleeter dan de rain-squall, far ober de mountains ob Madeira, far froo' de wild, dark forest. I heed noting, I fear noting. No wil' beas' makee Benee 'fraid. I follow de cannibals. I reach de country longee time 'foh you. I creepee like one snake to de hut ob poh deah Peggy. She no can fly wid me, but I 'sure her dat you come soon, in two moon p'laps, or free. I make de chile happy. Den I creep and glide away again all samee one black snake, and come back to find you. I go?"

Roland took the man's hand. Savage though he was, there was kindness and there was undoubted sincerity in those dark, expressive eyes, and our hero at once gave the permission asked.

"But," he said, "the way is long and dangerous, my good Benee, so here I give you two long-range six-shooters, a repeating-rifle, and a box of cartridges. May God speed your journey, and bring you safely back with news that shall inspire our hearts! Go!"

Benee glided away as silently as he had come, and next morning his place was found empty. But would their trust in this man reap its reward, or--awful doubt--was Benee false?

Next night but one something very strange happened.

All was silent in and around Burnley Hall, and the silvery tones of the great tower clock had chimed the hour of three, when the window of Mr. Peter's room was silently opened, and out into the moonlight glided the man himself.

He carried in his hand a heavy grip-sack, and commenced at once taking the path that led downwards to the river.

Here lay the dinghy boat drawn up on the beach. She was secured with padlock and chain, but all Roland's officers carried keys.

It was about a quarter of a mile to the river-side, and Peter was proceeding at a fairly rapid rate, considering the weight of his grip-sack.

He had a habit of talking to himself. He was doing so now.

"I have only to drop well down the river and intercept a steamer. It is this very day they pass, and--"

Two figures suddenly glided from the bush and stood before him.

One sprang up behind, whom he could not see.

"Good-morning, Mr. Peter! Going for a walk early, aren't you? It's going to turn out a delightful day, I think."

They were white men.

"Here!" cried Peter, "advance but one step, or dare to impede my progress, and you are both dead men! I am a good shot, and happen, as you see, to have the draw on you."

Next moment his right arm was seized from behind, the men in front ducked, and the first shot went off in the air.

"Here, none o' that, guv'nor!" said a set, determined voice.

The revolver was wrenched from his grasp, and he found himself on his back in the pathway.

"It is murder you'd be after! Eh?"

"Not so, my good fellow," said Peter. "I will explain."

"Explain, then."

"My duties are ended with Mr. Roland St. Clair. He owes me one month's wages. I have forfeited that and given warning, and am going. That is all."

"You are going, are you? Well, we shall see about that."

"Yes, you may, and now let me pass on my peaceful way."

"He! he! he! But tell us, Mr. Peter, why this speedy departure? Hast aught upon thy conscience, or hast got a conscience?"

Peter had risen to his feet.

"Merely this. I claim the privilege of every working man, that of giving leave. I am not strong, and I dread the long journey Mr. St. Clair and his little band are to take."

"But," said the other, "you came in such a questionable shape, and we were here to watch for stragglers, not of course thinking for a moment, Mr. Peter, that your French window would be opened, and that you yourself would attempt to take French leave.

"Now you really must get back to your bedroom, guv'nor, and see Mr. St. Clair in the morning. My mates will do sentry-go at your window, and I shall be by your door in case you need anything. It is a mere matter of form, Mr. Peter, but of course we have to obey orders. Got ere a drop of brandy in your flask?"

Peter quickly produced quite a large bottle. He drank heavily himself first, and then passed it round.

But the men took but little, and Mr. Peter, half-intoxicated, allowed himself to be conducted to bed.

When these sentries gave in their report next morning to Roland, Mr. Peter did not rise a deal in the young fellow's estimation.

"It only proves one thing," he said to Dick. "If Peter is so anxious to give us the slip, we must watch him well until we are far on the road towards the cannibals' land."

"That's so," returned Dick Temple.

Not a word was said to Peter regarding his attempted flight when he sat down to breakfast with the boys, and naturally enough he believed it had not been reported. Indeed he had some hazy remembrance of having offered the sentries a bribe to keep dark.

Mr. Peter ate very sparingly, and looked sadly fishy about the eyes.

But he made no more attempts to escape just then.