“You can either come or stop away. I’m going to-morrow, and Adams is coming with me.”
Saying this, Biglow shrugged his shoulders and again waited Clensy’s reply.
Clensy was not a coward, neither was he a fool; he knew that a reward of five hundred pounds would not be offered for information of the vaudoux worshippers if getting such information was as easy as Biglow’s manner seemed to suggest. Besides, had not de Cripsny hinted that President Gravelot was a vaudoux worshipper? And what would Sestrina think if she ever heard that Clensy had been one of the party who had caused her father to be shot! For that’s what would happen if the French government officials got hold of the miscreants.
As Clensy stood reflecting, Biglow, who had been watching his face, said, “Don’t you worry about Sestrina’s pa. I won’t hurt him if we do find out that he is anything to do with these damnable cannibals.” Then the gun-runner added, “Besides, I know what I’m about; even if we were caught, I’ve got the trick card up my sleeve.” Saying this, Biglow explained to Clensy how he was in league with the Cacao insurgents, who were deadly enemies of the British and French authorities, and were staunch friends to the papaloi and all who were connected with the vaudoux fetish.
“You don’t understand. I can easily turn the tables if things turned up rough.” And as Biglow chatted on and made things look quite rosy, Clensy, though he really did not understand half the gun-runner said, made up his mind to accompany Biglow in his search in the mountains hard by for the secret vaudoux temples.
The risk of the adventure and all that he might see of the inner working of the strange fetish, warmed Clensy’s ardour up immensely as he reflected over it all.
“Perhaps Biglow will be so successful that he will get such information as will enable the authorities to smash the whole infernal fetish creed up!” And as he continued to reflect and thought of all the possibilities, his zeal increased till he was as eager to go in search of the secret fetish places as was Biglow. His imagination worked and worked till he pictured Sestrina standing before her father with bowed head, as he tried to lure her to become a convert to the revolting creed which he himself indulged in.
“Who knows! I may be the means of saving Sestrina from falling before a father’s vile temptation and becoming steeped in the blood, superstition and debauchery of an old West African cannibalistic fetish creed!” So ran Clensy’s thoughts; and when Biglow, Adams and he set out the next day for their journey to the mountains, a few miles from Port-au-Prince, Clensy was the most enthusiastic over the great possibilities of the venture.
The weather was very hot, consequently they had given themselves plenty of time for the venture. Biglow, who had once been employed by the American Government to help put down slave traffic in the South Sea Islands, was in his element. He had made all plans for the venture without a hitch. Both Clensy and Adams were equipped with revolvers and murderous-looking clasp-knives. When Biglow had handed Adams the clasp-knife and revolver, the derelict sailorman had turned quite pale. It wanted those deadly-looking weapons and Biglow’s serious-looking face to make his dull brain realise that they were not going off to gather strawberries. Even Clensy looked thoughtfully at the open clasp-knife’s bright blade and at the revolver, and then, taking his silk handkerchief from his pocket, blew his nose vigorously, just to relieve his feelings.
As soon as they had got away from the town they entered the thick jungle country that lies inland from Port-au-Prince. After tramping three miles they camped by the palm-clad elevations of the lower mountain slopes, near Chocalo gullies. As they sat smoking their pipes, Biglow tugged at the tips of his big moustachios and gave repeated chuckles, presumably over all that his sanguine mind expected to happen when he had discovered the hiding-place of the fetish devotees.