Part 43 (1/2)

And the men pulled the cutter close alongside the swift-looking boat with its raking masts and lowered lug sails.

”Humph!” said the lieutenant. ”The same build, the same rig, the same coloured canvas. Well, really, Mr Murray, it is a strange resemblance.”

”I'm almost sure it is the same boat, sir,” cried Murray.

”That's as good as saying that the Yankee who tricked us so has sailed right across the Atlantic with the slaving schooner, and we have had the luck to follow in her track, and caught up to her.”

”Yes, sir; I don't think there's any doubt of it,” cried Murray.

”Then, if you are right, Mr Murray, the slaving schooner will be somewhere close at hand.”

”Yes, sir; I hope so,” replied Murray. ”I am ready to hope so, my lad, but I say it is impossible. That was a lugger, and this is a lugger, and of course there is a certain amount of resemblance in the rig; but you are jumping at conclusions just because this is similar.”

”I think not, sir. I took so much notice of the boat; but look here, sir, Tom May was with me when I went forward to speak to the Yankee, and he would know.--Here, May, isn't that the lugger the American planter was on when we brought her to?”

The sailor stared hard at the vessel hanging by a line fastened to what seemed to be a cocoanut tree.

”Same build, sir; same rig, sir. Might have been built up the same river, but it arn't the one we saw that day, sir--Wish it was!”

”There, Murray, what do you say now?”

”That I didn't think it possible that I could have been so deceived.

Would it be possible that it could have been built by the same s.h.i.+pwright, sir?”

”Quite, my lad; and it is quite possible that we may come across a schooner or two built just like the one we saw escape. There is no doubt that many slaving schooners are built in these islands especially for the trade. Look out, my lads, and don't miss anything. There may be one of them moored safely in a snug creek.--What was that?”

”n.i.g.g.e.r, sir,” said Tom May. ”I just ketched sight of him squinting at us among the trees. There he is again, sir.”

This time Roberts had caught sight of a black figure wearing the very simple costume of a pair of loose cotton drawers, his round woolly head covered with a broad-brimmed hat formed of extremely thin strips of thin cane.

”Scared at us,” said the sailor, for as the cutter was rowed alongside of the lugger, the black darted out of sight, but, evidently curious to know what was going on and the object of the strangers, he peered out again.

”Ahoy there!” shouted one of the sailors.

That was enough. The black disappeared once more, but only for a few moments before he was peeping again.

”You hail him this time, Mr Murray,” cried the lieutenant.

”Ahoy there!” cried Murray. ”What boat's that?”

The black clung to one of the trees on the bank of the river and watched the speaker eagerly.

”He doesn't understand,” said the lieutenant. ”I dare say he only speaks bad Spanish. But try him again.”

”Can you speak English?” cried Murray.

”Yes, ma.s.sa!”

”Come, that's better,” said the lieutenant. ”Try him again, Mr Murray.” And the lad shouted--