Part 11 (1/2)

III

A squadron of corvettes and sloops o' war put their gla.s.ses on us lazily as we neared Momba; but with our Dutch bow and stern, our stumpy spars, no self-respecting war-s.h.i.+p was bothering the _Triton_. They let us pa.s.s without so much as a hail.

Captain Blaise planned to cross Momba Bar that night, all the more surely to cross because the watchers ash.o.r.e, seeing us hang on and off in the late afternoon, would probably report that we were waiting for morning. So we hauled her to in the dusk where, were it light, we would have seen, under its three fathom of water, Momba Bar lying white and smooth and quiet as a sanded deck as we pa.s.sed on. With the wind coming low and light from the land that was; but were it a high wind and from the sea, there would be no going over that bar at night or any other time.

We slipped silently up the inside, the northerly pa.s.sage, to the lagoon, and crept up the lagoon just as silently, but even as we were mooring the _Bess_ in a nook at the head of the lagoon, a tall Arab was alongside. With him Captain Blaise and I went ash.o.r.e in the s.h.i.+p's long-boat, and to avoid suspicion we took no arms. An hour of camp-fires and shadows under the trees we wasted then with this sharp trader Ha.s.san. No printed calicoes, or bra.s.s rings, or looking-gla.s.ses for him, nor rum, he being a true believer. Nothing of that; but of gold paid into hand, and plenty of it there must be. And Captain Blaise, to allay suspicion, discussed matters hotly. Finally he agreed to the Arab's terms, and Ha.s.san salaamed, and out under the open sky we went again.

”A proper villain, Guy, is that fellow. Did you ever see so wonderfully cunning a smile? And in the morning I am to give him a draft on Rimmle!

Sometimes I think there must be something infantile about me, strangers do pick me up for such an innocent at times. But in the morning, my shrewd Ha.s.san--”

Naked feet padded beside us. ”O Marster Carpt'n, Marster Carpt'n, suh--”

”You, Ubbo!”

”Yes, suh, Marster Carpt'n.” It was a short, very stout, and very black negro who stood at attention before Captain Blaise.

”Where's your master?”

”Waitin', Carpt'n, suh. He sick, suh, but not so he die, he say, suh.”

”And Miss s.h.i.+ela?”

”Missy s.h.i.+ela at de Governor's, suh. An' de missy know you come too, suh. I been watchin', suh, for long time. I see de s.h.i.+p, suh, an' I know you come over de bar, suh, to-night. An' I tell de marster, suh. An'

marster waitin', an' Missy s.h.i.+ela waitin', Marster Carpt'n, to take um away--to take um home, suh. He very sick, suh.”

”After us, Ubbo.”

We raced to where was the long-boat, screened under a bank. From her crew we took four good men and followed Ubbo.

The roof of a low building loomed above the jungle growth. Ubbo uttered a warning sound. We could hear the regular tread and presently a form showed around the corner of the house. It was a negro in uniform with a musket held carelessly over his shoulder.

Captain Blaise whispered to his men: ”When he comes around again get him. No noise. Choke him first.” The four sailors leaped together when next he appeared. In an instant almost it was done. They laid him on the ground, threw his musket into the brush, and we entered the building.

On a cot beside an open window, with a reading-lamp at his head, lay a tall man.

”Still alive, Gad,” called Captain Blaise cheerily.

”Still alive, Blaise, and I reckon you did a neat job on that n.i.g.g.e.r guard, for all I heard was a little gurgling. Yes, still alive. Still alive, Blaise, thanks to s.h.i.+ela's discrimination in the selection of the Governor's nouris.h.i.+ng cordials, and thanks no less to my boy Ubbo's sleepless habits. But, old friend, you're none too soon. And don't waste any time in getting s.h.i.+ela. She is still at the Governor's. I bade her stay there so they would not suspect. She has my sabre and duelling pistols with her, by the way. And she'll bear a hand with them, if need be. But who is this? Oh, this is Guy? I'm glad to know you, Guy.”

A wreck of a tall, slender, handsome man, such a man he may have been in his prime as was Captain Blaise, but older. A sporting, reckless sort he may have been, but a man of manner and blood. Two of the crew bore him out, though one would have sufficed. ”Ubbo will show you where the strong-box is, Blaise,” he called on being borne off; and Ubbo led us through the thick jungle to where, under a rock over which a little water-fall played, a ma.s.sive iron chest was buried. It took two stout men of the crew to handle it.

We saw Mr. Cunningham and the strong-box safely to the long-boat and then, with Ubbo, took station behind a hedge which bordered the Governor's grounds. There was much going on there--music and people strolling on the lawn. Captain Blaise pointed out the Governor to me, and his son, and bade me notice also fifteen or twenty barefooted but armed and uniformed negroes cl.u.s.tered between two rows of palms on the farther side of the lawn.

”We'll wait here, with the hedge to protect us,” said Captain Blaise, and motioned to Ubbo. ”Tell Miss s.h.i.+ela that all's ready.”

The negro slipped away. A short minute or so and Captain Blaise, who had been peering like a man on watch on a bad night, gripped me nervously.

”Look, there she is!”