CHAPTER XVIII.

WE FIND A NEW ABODE, AND ZALEE DEPARTS TO SEEK SUCCOUR.

The place was indeed desolate! I could not believe the evidence of my eyes. The uprights of our pleasant home were still charred and smoking; the palm board floor was red and glowing, and in some places it had fallen through. There was no sign of any of the utensils, no sign of the hammocks or the articles that we had fashioned to make life supportable in this tropic desert. A strange combination of words, but home is where the heart is. Where my heart was at that moment I did not know, but I knew that the place where it was not, was a desert to me.

Imagine if you can the feelings to which I became at once a prey! My imagination ran riot. I thought of Cynthia, fallen, perhaps, into hostile hands, carried away by some terrible barbarians, forced because of her beauty to become a priestess; put to death if she refused. I did not forget the little dagger that I had given her, and I hoped that she would not forget it if the time should come. _If the time should come!_ I turned sick at the thought. I must have shown my feelings in my face.

"Oh, it may not be so bad," said the Smith. "While there's life there's hope, you know."

"Do you call _that_ life?" I answered; pointing to the smoking ruins.

I threw myself upon the ground. I seemed to have lost my senses. I had no thought for my own safety. The same hostile hand which burned the house might have made us prisoners again, but that thought never came to me until the Smith suggested it. Even then I cared little. If Cynthia was lost to me, it mattered not what became of me.

"The only place for us," said the Smith, "is the cave."

"That cave again! I can not go there! Do not ask it," I exclaimed.

"We must," said the Smith, "until we find out something about your friends, and whether they are really mur----"

"Oh, do not----" I said, putting my hands before my eyes.

"Well, better come with me," said the Smith. I arose, and he led me like a blind man down the path toward the cave. We went through the passage as of old and reached the lattice chamber. Here we found traces of late occupancy. There was some food placed in an accessible spot, and I also found upon the floor a little handkerchief of Cynthia's. This I seized like a frantic man, and pressed to my heart and devoured with kisses. The Smith smiled, but I cared nothing.

"Just fancy me kissin' the missis's handkerchief!" said he. "Wouldn't she laugh!"

Possibly Cynthia would have laughed, too, but I was so miserable that just to press her handkerchief to my lips gave me a little spark of comfort.

We were famished, and we ate some of the food and left some for another time. At least, the Smith did so. I took what he gave me, and he put the rest on a jutting ledge of rock. We were both tired with the excitement and long and wakeful night, and, following the Smith's example, I lay down and soon forgot my misery in dreams--heavy sleep, rather, for I was too tired to dream. We slept the sleep of exhaustion. I judged it to be about six o'clock in the evening when I turned over. The Smith was still breathing heavily. As I turned back to rest my tired head again, something bright caught my eye. I put out my hand to grasp the tiny thing. I could not really believe that I was awake. "I am dreaming," said I to myself, and pinched my arm to awake myself. But no! I was awake, and there in my hand lay the little gold locket, half open, and my own face peeped through the opening. I sat and thought. What could this mean? Had some one found the locket down there in the stream? Yes, undoubtedly some one had found it. Who could that some one be? My heart told me at once. I had found Cynthia's handkerchief in that very spot. She had, perhaps, laid down there to sleep. At all events, she had been there not long before. She it must have been who had dropped them. She it was who at some moment, unknown to the rest of the camp, had stolen away and had fished my phiz out of the little stream. The thought gave me courage. I drank some water from one of our pails standing near and lay down to sleep again, the locket held close to my cheek. I awoke to find some one standing in the room. The bright moonlight streamed in through the lattice of leaves, and I recognised the tall slight form of the Haitien, Zalee.

He bowed to me respectfully, and then went and laid his finger on the shoulder of the Smith. The Smith, who had slept certainly for the best part of fourteen hours, rolled over and stood at once upon his feet.

"Now bring on your cannibals!" said he. "I feel like a fighting cock."

Zalee looked anxiously around upon the floor. I thought that I knew what he was searching for, but I did not help him out. Perhaps she had discovered her loss, and had sent him for the locket. The Haitien shook his head with a look as if much disappointed. Then he took up the pail, beckoned to me to come, and together the Smith and I left the cave, following in Zalee's footsteps. I noticed that Zalee did not seem at all surprised at the presence of the Smith. Then I argued that he had undoubtedly seen him before, at the time when he was unseen by us, and was to us a weird and ghostly personality.

We followed docilely in the footsteps of Zalee. He guided us up the hill and along the path that led to the ruins of the house. He stopped a moment by the remains of our home and shook his head, then stepped briskly onward.

Zalee walked very quickly. We could hardly keep pace with him. I argued that he wished to be far from the place before morning. There was little of incident in our trip. The same sweet odours filled the air, but as we got farther away from the coast we felt the breeze less, and finally there was none. Now a gentle rain began to fall, and the wood was thick with a warm steam, which filled our eyes and nostrils and almost blinded us. The shadows in the wood were dark, and the great trees seen through the mist seemed like giants standing here and there to bar the way. We were all the time ascending, which made the journey a tiresome one. Finally we came out upon a plateau, and here it was bare of trees. We could look over the lower hills and the treetops where our house had been. We marked its situation by the column of smoke which rose steadily upward straight into the air. The rain had stopped as suddenly as it came, the mist gradually cleared away, the moon had a chance to shine out, and we stood for a moment looking downward across the waters of the indentation that we called the bay and out to sea. Then Zalee led us back to a thick fringe of trees which skirted the lower hill. As we turned to face it I saw the great citadel of Christophe, the grim and ghastly La Ferriere, loom out upon its mountain prominence, and I shuddered as I looked, for we were at least six miles nearer than we had been at the cave. Off to the left there was a steep precipice, and over this, in the uncertain light, I saw that many large birds hovered and swept downward.

I looked inquiringly at the Smith.

"The precipice of the Grand Boucan," said he.

I had heard of this place. So that was where King Henry of the North flung his prisoners and servants when they did not succeed in pleasing him! I almost fancied that at that very moment I could see some poor wretch being hurled into the abyss which led to eternity. It was like a dreadful nightmare, and I turned away.

"I pray that we shall never get any nearer to that black brute!" said I.

Zalee put his finger on his lip and beckoned us to follow him. We again took up our march. As we were nearing the next steep rise, suddenly he put his hand on my shoulder and forced me down among the weeds and underbrush. The Smith did as he saw us do. In a few minutes there passed by us three tall men, griffe in shade. They carried enormous clubs, the most deadly bludgeons that I had ever seen. They were dressed in some light cloth, tied across their shoulders, and otherwise but for a clout were quite naked. They had large gold hoops in their ears, and upon the hand of each there glittered a thick silver ring.

"The body guard of the King," whispered the Smith. "I once saw one as a captive. I remember the dress."

The men plunged down the hill with great strides. They carried their clubs with ease, and swung them in their hands as they walked. They moved with light step and fast, and were soon lost among the lower trees.

I thanked Heaven that we had managed to lie hid without being seen. On looking back, I saw that we had come past well-tilled fields, and that there were some native huts in the distance, and I wondered again why we had never seen any one until the night of the vaudoux dance. I supposed that what the Smith said must be true, and that the natives were afraid of the cave, and so did not approach the vicinity of it. I had not noticed the cultivated land as we passed it by, because of the fog which had been so thick. Also I was in such a state of nervous tension that I could think of nothing but when we should reach our little party. I almost dreaded the arrival, for I had become so inured to disappointments that I feared what each day and hour might have in store for us.

And now I saw that we were approaching a steeper slope than any which had preceded it. In fact, we were confronted by a wall of rock, upon whose summit grew some trees, and at whose base a fringe of foliage dimly showed itself. As we approached these lower trees I saw that they were of stupendous size, and spread their enormous roots to a great distance. It was like a forest of giants, and one had to be careful in walking that he did not stumble over the great ridges which were made by the roots, and seriously hurt himself.

We passed over a short sort of stubble, following Zalee as he skirted round among the trees. At last he approached near to the face of the rock, where grew an enormous mahogany. To all appearance its bark was close to the wall, but as we drew nearer I saw him slip behind it. The moonlight was very bright, but I thought for a moment that we had lost him. I, too, slipped behind the tree, however, motioning the Smith to follow me close, and there I found, facing me, a cavity in the rock. I involuntarily drew back.

"Another cave!" exclaimed I. Again Zalee's cold fingers closed on mine as in the old days when first we landed. I took the Smith's hand in mine, and together we walked in a line through a black interior. I felt that we were ascending still, but I could see nothing. All that I could do was to trust to Zalee. Up, up, up, we went, until I felt that I could not drag one weary foot after the other; then we mounted a few natural steps and came out upon a level. I felt that we were taking a sharp turn to the left. The night breezes blew upon my face, and I began to see the stars overhead as we emerged from the passage upon an open plateau. It was a broad terrace of stone, half of it covered as with a roof by an overhanging rock, the rest bare of root or shrub.

A wonderful view met my eye, and I drank it in with appreciative sighs, while wondering if Cynthia were near me. I walked to the edge of the plateau and looked downward. There was a sheer precipice below me of perhaps five hundred feet. The plateau stood out from the rock behind it, whose sides were also precipitous, rising at the back a lofty wall of stone to the height of a thousand feet or more. Nature had planted a great cube in front of the cliff, and we were upon the top of it. There was, apparently, no way of access or of egress except by the route over which we had come. I stood looking out over the distant water bathed in the moonlight, taking in the bird's-eye view, and wondering just where our cave and camp had stood. I walked to the right a distance perhaps of two hundred feet, and there I saw again those birds of evil swooping downward, and low in the valley beneath them and me I noticed some white specks glistening in the moonlight. The bones of Christophe's victims! I gazed upward and caught sight of a corner of the wall of the great citadel, and I turned away my eyes with the dreadful apprehension that we might be forced some day to make its nearer acquaintance.

It was a remarkable platform, this upon which I stood. I could see that there was no way of scaling the rock from below, as I had noticed that the precipice was undercut slightly at the base--a characteristic of many of the rocks of the island--thus giving no vantage ground for the foot. The rock above us sloped outward in the same manner over our heads. To climb it would be an impossibility, and I felt that I stood upon a pillar of rock isolated from the world. While I was musing thus, Zalee touched me upon the arm. He beckoned also the Smith, and we followed. We returned through the short passage. As we went he breathed an occasional "Hist!" and stooped and laid his ear to the ground. I saw him so when once I struck a light. Hearing nothing, he arose and proceeded, we following. Suddenly we heard the sound of feet, and I felt his hand draw me suddenly downward. I fell to the ground, whispering a caution to the Smith as I did so. There was a faint flicker as of the light of a torch. And as I lay there I heard footsteps passing the end of the passage, and voices busily talking. Why the men did not turn into the passage where we were in hiding could only be accounted for by supposing that there were many such passages leading out of the grand one, and that the secret of the plateau was not known to others beside the Haitien.

As soon as the sound of the footsteps had died away in the distance, Zalee arose and went into the outer tunnel. There he listened intently. When satisfied that no one was coming, and that the strangers were gone, he returned to our first passage and struck a light.

I then saw lying upon the ground a tall, thin stone, which he motioned to the Smith and me to help him raise. This we did without much trouble, and we found that it fitted the opening into the passage almost perfectly--at all events, so well as not to be considered different from the other irregularities that I had noticed all along the walls. The Haitien then turned us about. He now lighted a small torch, and, Zalee preceding us, we were soon upon the terrace again. I tried to ask for Cynthia, but Zalee only shook his head, laid it upon his hand as if sleepy, and advised us to rest, as the morning would soon break. This he did by pointing to the east and then to the moon, which was disappearing behind the Grand Boucan. I saw that argument was useless, especially as we could communicate only by signs, so we retreated to the wall far back under the overhanging rock, and were soon asleep. I awoke to find the sun streaming into my eyes and to hear a voice saying anxiously:

"Where is Uncle, Mr. Jones?"

I sat up and opened my eyes, to see Cynthia standing before me. She was in the old blue dungaree dress, and stood silhouetted against the red sun of the morning like a young goddess.

I shook my head sadly.

"I do not know," said I.

I thought that this would make trouble, and it did.

"Do you mean to say that you have left that old man alone down there?"

"I mean to say nothing," returned I, "until you speak to me more properly."

I found that I had said the right thing. You can't always be too subservient to a young woman, especially the woman who knows how you love her. She'll turn and rend you when you least expect it.

She spoke more humbly now:

"I only meant to ask where Uncle is, Mr. Jones."

"I haven't the least idea," said I. "We waited for him on the shore and in the woods. Then we thought he had returned to the house, and we made for that. When we arrived there----"

"Yes, I know," said she. "Zalee did it."

"What! fired the house?"

"Yes. He said that there was fighting down the coast, and that if the people came our way we would not be safe. So he fired the house so that it would look as if an enemy did it, and he took us to the cave where----"

"Where you lost your handkerchief," said I.

She blushed brightly.

"Oh, did you find it, Mr. Jones?"

"Yes," said I, "I found it," and I put the little white thing into her hand.

"Is--is--this all you--you found, Mr. Jones?"

I knew that she was mine then, but I was merciful. I did not answer, but turned away and walked to the edge of the cliff, where Zalee was beckoning to me. He was standing there, looking downward. On the plain, some three hundred feet below, stood a man. He was in the open, perhaps six hundred feet away as the crow flies. He was looking upward. He waved his hand, it seemed, as if in astonishment. Zalee waved back to him. Of this, however, I did not approve.

Lacelle came up at that moment. The Smith followed.

"Tell him," I said, "that they will find us here if we show ourselves in this way." The Smith made Zalee understand this. He laughed, shook his head, and showed his white teeth.

"He says you may show yourselves as much as you like; they have no idea how to get up here," said Cynthia, who had joined us.

"Where is the Bo's'n?" asked I. At that moment the Bo's'n emerged from some concealment to the westward of where we were standing. In his arms he carried the little boy who had been rescued by Zalee the night before. Besides the child, he carried the spyglass. He had made the glass his special care. It stood to him in place of the family Bible. The reverence that he felt for this useful article stood us in good stead. I took the glass.

"I wonder what that savage wants," said I.

"He wants to know how to get up here," said the Smith.

"Can it be Uncle?" asked Cynthia.

"No," said I; "he's as black as that funereal bag of yours. The only difference is he hasn't a white spot on him." The man waved and gesticulated.

"I wouldn't show myself out on the edge of that terrace," said the Smith. "They'll surely find a way up here if they see us."

"Zalee said there was no danger," said I; but I retreated, leaving the man gesticulating.

"It's some ruse, I suppose," said the Smith.

I could not help crawling to the edge of the rock a little later, however, and peering through the leaves which fringed its extreme limit. The man was still looking upward. So he stood for a few moments, and then turned reluctantly, I thought, toward the path leading to the one up which we had clambered, and was lost in the thick undergrowth.

"I think it extremely unsafe," said I. "I think we have tempted Providence enough."

"Zalee is always right, Mr. Jones," said Cynthia. "What do you think can have become of Uncle?"

"I think that he will go to the cave as we did, and that if Zalee goes down again to-night he may find him."

"But he can't go every night," said Cynthia. "We were very much worried when he said that he must go last night. It is many miles from here--eight, perhaps. Zalee went down hoping to find you all, and then you must remember that he and the Bo's'n carried all our belongings up here the day and night before. And then he had the child to care for."

"Oh," said I, "I was wondering what had become of the boy."

"What boy? Oh, that little friend of Zalee's. He seems to have found the child in the wood. Lacelle seemed so glad to see him. Wasn't it strange that such a child should be wandering all alone at that time of night. They have a queer way of treating children in this island."

"They have, indeed!" said I.

I saw that she knew nothing of the terrible practice which we had witnessed, and I had no intention of enlightening her.

We then sat down to eat such food as the Bo's'n had prepared, and the others resumed while doing so their surmises about the Skipper. As for me, I had much to think of.

Our party had now been augmented by the presence of a little boy who could aid us in nothing, who must be taken care of at all hazards. And we had lost the cheery presence of the Skipper. The Minion, too, was gone, but he did not enter into my calculations, for I thought that, though we were well rid of him, he was a young man who would always come up smiling. I could not but wonder how long we were to remain here, and if Zalee had any plan for us. It seemed so strange to suddenly be cast on the mercy and kindness of a half savage in the wilds of Haiti that I could hardly help smiling. How long, I wondered, were we to remain perched on this isolated cliff waiting for some one to come to our aid. I asked Cynthia what plans had been made, if any. She answered that Lacelle had told her that Zalee had a plan, and that he would tell it to us after supper. So that evening, when the work of the day was done, Zalee told us of his plan. Rather, he told Lacelle. She communicated it to Cynthia and the Bo's'n together, and they in turn told me.

Zalee said that American ships sometimes came into the harbour of Le Cap. He had heard of them from his uncle, who once had been to the town. That no one seemed to know where America was, as they knew of nothing but France, and the chiefs and generals in the island, against whom they fought constantly. But Zalee said that he had heard that coffee was sent to that far-off land America, and that if he could find a coffee vessel there, he would get the captain to take a letter to America for us. Then perhaps they would send a ship for us from our home. I shook my head.

"That seems a very uncertain way," said I. "We must have a consul there, and he is bound to help us if he hears our story. The only danger is that between all these contending parties and forces no one will consider himself responsible for our safety. Should anything happen to us, they can all of them lay it on the other, which won't help our case at all. I believe the southern provinces are beginning to revolt against Christophe already."

When this was explained to Zalee, he shook his head and said that his way was best. That "consite"[D] liked to stay at Port au Prince. The Smith suggested that we should all start with Zalee and try to reach Le Cap.

[D] Haitien for consul.

It seemed almost incredible that within fifteen or sixteen miles of us there might be an American of authority who could save us, and who undoubtedly would if he knew of our unhappy condition. Yet the difficulty was to get a message to him. At the time of which I write there was no respect felt in the island for strangers. The Haitiens had overcome the French and were puffed up with pride of power, and nothing short of official authority would compass our ends. In the first place, the roaming bands which we might meet would not believe our story, and, in the second place, they could pretend to doubt it even if it sounded like truth in their ears. I might start and try to make the trip myself, but I could not expose Cynthia to the unknown dangers of such a journey, and I could not leave her alone with these men, who were probably trustworthy, but whom to be certain of, I had not proved sufficiently.

I turned to Cynthia. Her trials had told upon her. She looked thinner and more fragile than she had even a few days ago. I did not see how she was to compass the journey. I shook my head. There was, perhaps, a little moisture in my eye.

"We had better stay here," said I. "I can see nothing else for it. Then the consul can make a demand on Christophe for us, and threaten him with the wrath of our Government if he does not send us to Le Cap." Not that I had much faith in that plan, either.

"I would rather start," said Cynthia. "Why can't we, Mr. Jones?"

"You could not do it. The natives are too uneasy. Bands of rebels may be wandering in these woods. And then there is the Captain. Have you forgotten him?"

"Oh, no, of course not. I am afraid that I did forget for a moment. No, I can not leave Uncle."

I knew that her remaining would make no difference to the Skipper, who, if he had not made a meal for some vaudoux chief, might be languishing in durance until they decided what to do with him.

"We will do as Zalee says," said I. "When does he purpose starting?"

"As soon as he gets food enough collected to be able to leave us for three or four days," answered Cynthia.

The next few days we spent in collecting what food we could, and making it ready against the time when Zalee should be gone. Lacelle told us that he must make a slight detour, as he intended taking the little boy back to his mother. Lacelle looked wistful when she told Cynthia this, and I gathered that it was because her home was near that of the child; but at a cheering word from Zalee she smiled again. She told Cynthia that Zalee had said that they must be wanderers until the island was more settled. That now no one knew which side to be on. That Dessalines and Regaud had been as bad as Petion, and that Boyer was now warring against Christophe, and if one could not decide which would prove the winning side, he had better secrete himself until these unhappy days were over. I had been curious, I must confess, as to where Cynthia and Lacelle were housed, but motives of delicacy kept me from asking. Now Cynthia turned to Lacelle, and told her that she might show me the rooms which they occupied.

Upon the right side of the terrace a narrow path ran under an arch, and, passing this, one walked along the cliff for a few feet. The path crossed a broad crack in the rock and came to a small opening, which led to two natural caves. They were very small, one beyond the other, both facing the ocean, as did the terrace. One looked out from them as one does from an Italian loggia. I did not more than glance at the entrance to the first one, but I saw that if our position was inaccessible, Cynthia's was even more so.

I have not told of the trickling stream that ran down outside of the terrace from the mountain heights above. Certainly Zalee would not have chosen a place of refuge where there was not a plentiful supply of water.

And now came the time for Zalee to start. I must confess that I saw him prepare to go with a heart full of forebodings. I wondered when he would return, if ever. But he turned to me with his sweet smile, showing his white even teeth, and taking Lacelle's hand, laid it in mine with a bow that would have done honour to a courtier. It was if he had said: "I leave my all with you. I trust her with you. You can trust me to return."

We had food prepared to last for five days at least. We should not starve. And we sat ourselves down to wait as well as we could for Zalee's return. I had given him a note to the consul, written on a scrap of paper which Cynthia had torn from the little note-book, and he started off with it, in its double case of paper, tied round his neck with a piece of Cynthia's silk, and the little lad held safely in his arms. The child had frightened eyes, and I wondered if his reason was intact. He must have suffered terribly during the time that he was confined under the altar of the temple. He told Lacelle that he was in a box with a serpent. That the creature coiled itself round his body. That he was there for three days and nights; that he saw the light come and go three separate times. I could hardly believe this, but Zalee seemed to think it quite true.

When I asked why the serpent did not injure the child Zalee told me, through the string of interpreters, that the large serpents that are chosen as the gods of the vaudoux rites are harmless. This was at least one redeeming feature amid all the horrors of that dreadful practice.

The Bo's'n and I put the stone up against the opening after Zalee's departure, and I must confess that I wondered who would remove it.

Something that happened during our stay in this new place I almost dread to tell you, and yet it is a more than solemn fact, and will show to you a tithe, perhaps, of the anxiety that our stay there caused me. One morning the Smith and I had volunteered to secure some mangoes. I had heard Cynthia express a wish for some, and she so seldom asked for anything but the simple food that we had to divide among us, that I decided to skirt down the hill to a tree of which I knew and bring some to the plateau. We listened at the door of our passage, and, hearing no sound, we removed the slab of stone and ran down the underground way, feeling the wall with our hands to guide us. When we reached the outer air we struck into the woods toward the west, and were soon at the mango tree. The Smith was an expert climber, and so I allowed him to climb up among the great branches, while I stood below to catch the fruit. I caught all that I could as he dropped them, that they might not be bruised, and when I had collected what I thought a sufficient quantity I called to him to come down.

"There are some fine ones out on that lower limb," said he. "I should like to get those for the lady, if you don't mind."

I saw him crawling out on the long, strong limb. He laid along it like a serpent, and, as it was a lower limb, he was not far from the ground. All at once I heard an exclamation of horror, and the Smith dropped from the branch. I ran to him, and found that he was bending over a figure lying among the grass and weeds. It was that of a young man of perhaps twenty years of age. He was lying on his back, his eyes staring upward. He was cold in death. How can I write the rest! From the region of the heart a tube or hollow sort of reed stood up perpendicularly in the air. No! I can not write it. The "loup garou" had been there before us, and without the excuse of the vaudoux rites! They had, indeed, been wolves to their own kind. Vampires, I might say! I turned my head while the Smith withdrew the tube and the sharp instrument at its end, which had made the incision.

"First the trance," said the Smith, "and then death! Fortunately, the victims know nothing usually of the manner of their end."

We had no way to dig a grave for the poor young fellow, so we carried him to a cleft in the rock of which I knew and dropped the body down. This terrible incident impressed me as nothing else (not even the sacrifice of the children) had. There was something so horrible in the fact of the young man meeting his fate alone in that deep, dark wood! I was ready to slay the first creature that I came across, but we met no one in returning, and got safely into the passageway and replaced the rock. Then the horror of it all overcame me, and I dropped in the tunnel like a stone.