“Caesar show Massa Bri’sh officer why must wait.”
“When will you show me?” asked the lieutenant sharply.
The black stood silent for a few moments as if debating within himself sadly and doubtfully. Then turning his eyes upon Murray, his own brightened, and he thrust his hand within the cotton shirt which loosely covered his breast and shoulders. Then quickly drawing out the piece of young notched cane and the marked plantain leaf, he looked at them eagerly, turning them over in his hands and seeming to read the marks that were cut through rind and skin.
As he did this the black’s face brightened and he seemed to have found the way out of a difficulty as he held out the tokens of something or another to Murray.
“What have you there, my man?” cried the lieutenant.
“Obeah, massa. Fetish. Massa officer come with Caesar to-night, Caesar show him why wait.”
“Come with you alone?” said the lieutenant.
The black shook his head.
“No, massa come bring massa officer, Bri’sh sailor. Come and see. Caesar not ’fraid now. Massa come to-night.”
“Come where?” cried Mr Anderson.