Part 103 (1/2)

What do you say to getting a good bunch of palm leaves and waiting till these slaver beggars come again, and then setting fire to the place and burning them all up together?”

”Yes, sah,” said the black sadly. ”Caesar go and set fire to sugar-barrel; all burn up.”

”Bah! Take too long, darkie. Now, if you'd got a barrel o' powder!”

”Big Ma.s.sa Tom want barrel o' powder?”

”Do I want a barrel of powder?” growled the big sailor, in a deep-toned voice full of contempt and scorn.

”Not big barrel sugar,” said the black sadly; ”lilly barrel black powder, all black like n.i.g.g.ah.”

”Here, what are you talking about, you old pitch kettle?” cried the sailor, full of animation now. ”You don't know where there's a lilly barrel, do you?”

”Yes,” said the man quietly.

”Not a lilly white barrel?”

”No, sah; lilly black barrel. Two--ten--twenty lilly barrel.”

”What!” cried Murray excitedly. ”Where is it?”

”Down'tair,” said the black, speaking with more animation now. ”Ma.s.sa Murray Frank wantum?”

”Yes, of course,” cried the lad. ”Where do you say it is?

Down-stairs?”

”Yes, ma.s.sa. Down'tair long wi' Ma.s.sa Allen bottle of wine. Plenty bottle o' wine. Two, ten, twenty lilly barrel black powder.”

”Avast there, my lads,” said the big sailor, in a deep, low whisper.

”Rouse and bit, my chickens. Here's corn in Egypt and no mistake.” And then, as the men sprang up ready to meet another attack, even if it might be the last, Tom May turned to Murray. ”Beg pardon, sir, but what's it to be?”

”Get a barrel of powder up directly, Tom,” replied the lad; ”that is, if it doesn't turn out too good to be true. You serve it out to the lads, too, and be ready to give the enemy a surprise when they come on again.”

”Beg pardon, sir, but hadn't we better make it a mine, sir? Clap a couple o' barrels just in their way. Lay a train, and one on us be ready to fire it just as they're scrowging together under the window.”

”Yes, far better, Tom; far better than blazing at the wretches with the muskets. Here, Caesar, show us where the powder is. Is it locked up?”

”Yes, ma.s.sa; down'tair. Caesar know where key.”

The feeling that he was going to be of some great a.s.sistance to those who were the friends of his master seemed to rouse up the black, who staggered at first as he rose, and then seemed to grow stronger as he led the way towards the door, caught at the bal.u.s.trade, and before he could be seized fell and rolled heavily down the stairs, to lie groaning feebly at the bottom.

”Look at that now!” cried the big sailor, as he helped Murray to raise the poor fellow to his feet. ”Why didn't you speak out about the gunpowder before?”

”Caesar not know,” moaned the s.h.i.+vering black. ”Key dah,” he panted.

”Key dah.”

”Key dah!” growled the big sailor. ”Who's to know where _dah_ is?

Can't you show us? I believe we shall have the beggars here before we can find it, sir.”