Black Ivory by R. M. Ballantyne (best ereader for graphic novels TXT) 📕

on a man and woman and bring them forcibly to the Governor’s house, without any better reason than that a self-willed girl ordered him so to do; at the same time, he perceived that, if he did not act promptly, the retreating figures would soon turn into the town, and be hopelessly beyond his power of recognition.

“But—but—” he stammered, “if they won’t come—?”

“They must come. Threaten my father’s high displeasure.—Quick, Senhor,” cried the young lady in a commanding tone.

Lindsay flung open the casement and leapt through it as being the shortest way out of the house, rushed with undignified speed along the road, and overtook the Arab and his friend as they were about to turn into one of the narrow lanes of the town.

“Pardon me,” said the lieutenant laying his hand on Yoosoof’s shoulder in his anxiety to make sure of him, “will you be so good as to return with me to the Governor’s residence?”

“By whose orders?” demanded Yoosoof with a look of surprise.

“The orders of the Senhorina Maraquita.”

The Arab hesitated, looked somewhat perplexed, and said something in Portuguese to Marizano, who pointed to the slave-girl, and spoke with considerable vehemence.

Lindsay did not understand what was said, but, conjecturing that the half-caste was proposing that Azinté should remain with him, he said:— “The girl must return with you—if you would not incur the Governor’s displeasure.”

Marizano, on having this explained to him, looked with much ferocity at the lieutenant and spoke to Yoosoof in wrathful tones, but the latter shook his head, and the former, who disliked Marizano’s appearance excessively, took not the least notice of him.

“I do go,” said Yoosoof, turning back. Motioning to Azinté to follow, he retraced his steps with the lieutenant and the slave—while Marizano strode into the town in a towering rage.

We need scarcely say that Maraquita, having got possession of Azinté, did not find it impossible to persuade her father to purchase her, and that Yoosoof, although sorry to disappoint Marizano, who was an important ally and assistant in the slave-trade, did not see his way to thwart the wishes of the Governor, whose power to interfere with his trade was very great indeed, and to whom he was under the necessity of paying head-money for every slave that was exported by him from that part of the coast.

Soon after Azinté had been thus happily rescued from the clutches of two of the greatest villains on the East African coast—where villains of the deepest dye are by no means uncommon—Lindsay met Captain Romer of the ‘Firefly’ on the beach, with his first lieutenant Mr Small, who, by the way, happened to be one of the largest men in his ship. The three officers had been invited to dine that day with the Governor, and as there seemed no particular occasion for their putting to sea that night, and a fresh supply of water had to be taken on board, the invitation had been accepted, all the more readily, too, that Captain Romer thought it afforded an opportunity for obtaining further information as to the movements of certain notorious slavers who were said to be thereabouts at that time. Lieutenant Lindsay had been sent ashore at an earlier part of the day, accompanied by one of the sailors who understood Portuguese, and who, being a remarkably intelligent man, might, it was thought, acquire some useful information from some of the people of the town.

“Well, Mr Lindsay, has Jackson been of any use to you?” inquired the captain.

“Not yet,” replied the lieutenant; “at least I know not what he may have done, not having met him since we parted on landing; but I have myself been so fortunate as to rescue a slave-girl under somewhat peculiar circumstances.”

“Truly, a most romantic and gallant affair,” said the captain, laughing, when Lindsay had related the incident, “and worthy of being mentioned in despatches; but I suspect, considering the part that the Senhorina Maraquita played in it and the fact that you only rescued the girl from one slaveholder in order to hand her over to another, the less that is said about the subject the better!—But here comes Jackson. Perhaps he may have learned something about the scoundrels we are in search of.”

The seaman referred to approached and touched his cap.

“What news?” demanded the captain, who knew by the twinkle in Jack’s eye that he had something interesting to report.

“I’ve diskivered all about it sir,” replied the man, with an ill-suppressed chuckle.

“Indeed! come this way. Now, let’s hear what you have to tell,” said the captain, when at a sufficient distance from his boat to render the conversation quite private.

“Well, sir,” began Jackson, “w’en I got up into the town, arter leavin’ Mr Lindsay, who should I meet but a man as had bin a messmate o’ mine aboard of that there Portuguese ship w’ere I picked up a smatterin’ o’ the lingo? Of course we hailed each other and hove-to for a spell, and then we made sail for a grog-shop, where we spliced the main-brace. After a deal o’ tackin’ and beatin’ about, which enabled me to find out that he’d left the sea an’ taken to business on his own account, which in them parts seems to mean loafin’ about doin’ little or nothin’, I went slap into the subject that was uppermost in my mind, and says I to him, says I, they does a deal o’ slavin’ on this here coast, it appears—Black Ivory is a profitable trade, ain’t it? W’y, sir, you should have seen the way he grinned and winked, and opened out on ’em.—‘Black Ivory!’ says he, ‘w’y, Jackson, there’s more slaves exported from these here parts annooally than would fill a good-sized city. I could tell you—but,’ says he, pullin’ up sudden, ‘you won’t split on me, messmate?’ ‘Honour bright,’ says I, ‘if ye don’t call tellin’ my captain splittin’.’ ‘Oh no,’ says he, with a laugh, ‘it’s little I care what he knows, or does to the pirates—for that’s their true name, and murderers to boot—but don’t let it come to the Governor’s ears, else I’m a ruined man.’ I says I wouldn’t and then he goes on to tell me all sorts of hanecdots about their doin’s—that they does it with the full consent of the Governor, who gets head-money for every slave exported; that nearly all the Governors on the coast are birds of the same feather, and that the Governor-General himself, (See Consul McLeod’s Travels in Eastern Africa, volume one page 306.) at Mozambique, winks at it and makes the subordinate Governors pay him tribute. Then he goes on to tell me more about the Governor of this here town, an’ says that, though a kind-hearted man in the main, and very good to his domestic slaves, he encourages the export trade, because it brings him in a splendid revenue, which he has much need of, poor man, for like most, if not all, of the Governors on the coast, he do receive nothin’ like a respectible salary from the Portuguese Government at home, and has to make it up by slave-tradin’.” (See McLeod’s Travels, volume one page 293.)

It must be explained here that British cruisers were, and still are, kept on the east coast of Africa, for the purpose of crushing only the export slave-trade. They claim no right to interfere with “domestic slavery,” an institution which is still legal in the dominions of the Sultan of Zanzibar and in the so-called colonies of Portugal on that coast.

“But that is not the best of it, sir,” continued Jackson, with a respectful smile, “after we’d had our jaw out I goes off along the road by the beach to think a bit what I’d best do, an’ have a smoke—for that’s wot usually sets my brain to work full-swing. Bein’ hot I lay down in the lee of a bush to excogitate. You see, sir, my old messmate told me that there are two men here, the worst characters he ever know’d—ashore or afloat. One they calls Yoosoof—an Arab he is; the other Marizano—he’s a slave-catcher, and an outlaw just now, havin’ taken up arms and rebelled against the Portuguese authorities. Nevertheless these two men are secretly hand and glove with the Governor here, and at this moment there are said to be a lot o’ slaves ready for shipment and only waitin’ till the ‘Firefly’ is out of the way. More than this my friend could not tell, so that’s w’y I went to excogitate.—I beg parding, sir, for being so long wi’ my yarn, but I ain’t got the knack o’ cuttin’ it short, sir, that’s w’ere it is.”

“Never mind, lad; go on to the end of it,” replied the captain. “Did you excogitate anything more?”

“I can’t say as I did, sir, but it was cooriously enough excogitated for me. W’en I was lying there looking through the bush at the bay, I sees two men comin’ along, arm in arm. One of ’em was an Arab. W’en they was near I saw the Arab start; I thought he’d seen me, and didn’t like me. No more did I like him or his comrade. However, I was wrong, for after whisperin’ somethin’ very earnest-like to his friend, who laughed very much; but said nothin’, they came and sat down not far from the bush where I lay. Now, thinks I, it ain’t pleasant to be an eavesdropper, but as I’m here to find out the secrets of villains, and as these two look uncommon like villains, I’ll wait a bit; if they broach business as don’t consarn me or her Majesty the Queen, I’ll sneeze an’ let ’em know I’m here, before they’re properly under weigh; but if they speaks of wot I wants to know, I’ll keep quiet. Well, sir, to my surprise, the Arab—he speaks in bad English, whereby I came to suppose the other was an Englishman, but, if he is, the climate must have spoiled him badly, for I never did see such a ruffian to look at. But he only laughed, and didn’t speak, so I couldn’t be sure. Well, to come to the pint, sir, the Arab said he’d got hold of two shipwrecked Englishmen, whom he meant to put on board of his dhow, at that time lyin’ up a river not three miles off, and full of slaves, take ’em off the coast, seize ’em when asleep, and heave ’em overboard; the reason bein’ that he was afraid, if they was left ashore here, they’d discover the town, which they are ignorant of at present, and give the alarm to our ship, sir, an’ so prevent him gettin’ clear off, which he means to attempt about midnight just after the moon goes down.”

This unexpected information was very gratifying to Captain Romer, who immediately gave orders to get steam up and have everything in readiness to start the moment he should make his appearance on board, at the same time enjoining absolute silence on his lieutenants and Jackson, who all returned to the ‘Firefly,’ chuckling inwardly.

If they had known that the Arab’s information, though partly true, was a ruse; that Jackson had indeed been observed by the keen-eyed Oriental, who had thereupon sat down purposely within earshot, and after a whispered hint to his companion, gave forth such information as would be likely to lead the British cruiser into his snares—speaking in bad English, under the natural impression that the sailor did not understand Portuguese, to the immense amusement of Marizano, who understood the ruse, though he did not understand a single word of what his companion said—had they known all this, we say, it is probable that they would have chuckled less, and—but why indulge in probabilities when facts are before us? The sequel will show that the best-laid plans may fail.