Latitude 19 degree Part 53

"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 sh.o.r.e 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 spygla.s.s. He had made the gla.s.s 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 gla.s.s.

"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 Hati 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 s.h.i.+ps 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 s.h.i.+p 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] Hatien 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 Hatiens had overcome the French and were puffed up with pride of power, and nothing short of official authority would compa.s.s 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 compa.s.s 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 languis.h.i.+ng in durance until they decided what to do with him.

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