Part 63 (1/2)
”Don't mean no games, do he, sir?”
”I think not; but I look to you to keep your eyes open.”
”Which I just will, sir. But I say, look at that.”
”Look at what, Tom?”
”That there little creek opening out, sir. Seems to me as if they've got little rivers all round the bay ready for going up or coming out on.
It's just as if they shut 'em up and no one could see 'em afterwards.”
Some little time later the planter's boat, which was only a short distance ahead, turned off at right angles in obedience to a pull at the starboard line, and seemed to disappear through a beautiful screen of tropic growth, and as the cutter was steered in after her it was to pa.s.s along a soft green tunnel, flecked with golden sunlight, into a smooth lake, at one side of which, standing back a short distance from the silver sandy sh.o.r.e, with its open windows, green shading jalousies, sheltering trees, and scarlet creepers, was as perfect a little Eden of a home as mortal eye ever looked upon. There was nothing to suggest slavery, sorrow, or suffering in any shape, but everywhere Nature decked the place with her richest beauties, and as the middy sprang up involuntarily, a low murmur of admiration ran through the crew. Then, as if ashamed of the habit in which he was indulging, Tom May doffed his straw hat, placed it upon his knees, thrust his crooked index finger into his capacious mouth, and hooked out from his left cheek a disgusting-looking quid of well-chewed tobacco, which dropped into the crown of the hat and was quickly tossed out, to fall _plop_ into the deep still water of the lake. The next moment a golden-scaled fish made a rush for what suggested itself to its ignorance as a delicacy, which it took, delivered a couple of strokes with its tail which sent it to the surface, flying out and falling back again with a heavy splash, and then disappeared beneath the glittering rings which began to open out and widen more and more towards the borders of the little mirrorlike lake.
”And sarve you jolly well right too,” growled the big sailor, as if talking to himself. ”What call had you to meddle with luxuries as is on'y sootable for eddicated people?”
Murray suppressed a smile and looked as serious as he could, giving orders to the men to pull a few strokes with their oars, sufficient to send the cutter into the place that had been occupied by the planter's boat, which was now gliding away from the great bamboo piles driven in by the rustic steps and platform upon which their guide had landed, while he now stood resting upon a rail beneath the verandah, which offered ample shade for the cutter and her crew.
Murray gave a few further orders, sprang out and stepped to the planter's side as the feeble invalid signed to him to come.
”I heard the commands given to you, sir,” he said, ”and you will, I hope, forgive me if I do not seem hospitable.”
”I know you are ill, sir,” said Murray coldly, ”so you need not trouble at all about me and my men.”
”I thank you,” said the planter, ”and of course I know enough of the Navy and its discipline not to proffer drink to your men.”
”Certainly not,” said Murray stiffly.
”Still,” continued the planter, ”in this hot climate the shelter will be acceptable. There is a spring of excellent water in the rockery behind the house, of which I beg you will make every use you desire. I am going to lie down in the room to the left. You have only to ring, and my slaves--well, servants,” said the planter, smiling sadly as he saw the lad's brow knit--”my servants will attend to your summons directly, and bring fruit--oranges, and what your men will no doubt appreciate, fresh green cocoanuts. They will make you fresh coffee and bring anything else you desire, sir.”
”I am much obliged,” said Murray, rather distantly, ”but you must recollect that I am on duty.”
”I do not forget that, sir,” replied the planter, smiling; ”but you will not find your duty a very hard one--to guard a poor feeble creature such as I. There, sir, you and your superiors are masters here, and I am, I know, only a prisoner.”
”I shall make your position as little irksome as I can, sir,” said Murray; and then, feeling a certain amount of pity for the wretched man, he added, ”Not a very terrible-looking prison, this.”
”No,” replied the planter, ”and when you begin to go amongst the slave-huts, you will, as a stranger, begin to wonder at their aspect, for the simplest shelter made with a few bamboos is soon turned by Nature into a home of beauty.”
”But all the same it is a slave's prison,” replied Murray.
”We had better not discuss that question, young gentleman,” said the planter bitterly, ”for I am sure that I could not convince you that I have tried for years past to render the slaves' lot more bearable.”
”Nothing could make it more bearable,” said Murray sternly.
”Certainly not,” said the other sadly, ”as matters are here.”
He raised his broad-brimmed Panama hat and turned to leave the bamboo platform, but, misjudging his strength, he reeled and would have fallen headlong into the placid water if it had not been for Murray's prompt action. For, starting forward, he flung his arm round the sick man's waist, and supported him to the doorway that had been pointed out beneath the broad verandah.
”Thank you! Thank you!” panted the sick man; and with a painful smile he continued, ”Ah, it is a great thing to be young and strong, with the world before you and nothing to repent.--If you please, through that door to the left.”
They were standing now in a simply but handsomely furnished hall, whose princ.i.p.al decorations caught the lad's eyes at once, being, as they were, sporting and defensive weapons of all kinds, and of the best manufacture, hung about the walls; but for the moment Murray had no opportunity for inspecting these objects of interest, his attention being taken up by the planter, who availed himself of his guardian's help to pa.s.s through the door upon their left, where he sank upon a couch at one side of the room and closed his eyes.