Lobo bowed and smiled, sipped his wine, and assured us that he was in all things our very obedient, humble servant, and that nothing pleased him so much as to be of assistance to the man-o’-war gentlemen, who honoured the river by paying it an occasional visit. At the same time—he pointed out—his friendly relations with those same man-o’-war gentlemen, and the services that he had been so glad to render them from time to time were, if not well known, at least very strongly suspected by the slavers and slave-dealing fraternity generally who used the Congo for their nefarious purposes; and in incurring this suspicion he also incurred a very serious risk, both to property and life, for which he considered that he was justly entitled to be remunerated on a generous scale.
“Most assuredly,” I agreed. “And I may tell you at once, Señor Lobo, that I am prepared to reward you very munificently for the efficient and faithful performance of the service that I require of you; I am prepared, in fact, to offer you no less a reward than your life. Ah, you turn pale, I see; and well you may when I inform you that your true character is by this time known to probably every British commander on the coast; you are known as a bare-faced traitor to the cause that you have pretended so zealously to serve, and I don’t mind mentioning to you, in confidence, that, if this ship had happened to be the Barracouta instead of the Felicidad you would now in all probability have been dangling from one of that ship’s yard-arms, as a wholesome warning and example to all betrayers— Nay, keep your seat, man; there is a sentry outside the door, and you are a prisoner beyond all possibility of escape. But you have no cause for fear on that account, provided that you can prevail upon yourself to act honestly for once. I require a certain service from you, and I promise you that if you render that service faithfully I will set you free at the termination of the adventure, with full liberty to seek safety by flight elsewhere. But until the adventure of which I speak is brought to a favourable conclusion, you are my prisoner; and I give you my word of honour that upon the first attempt to escape which you may be ill-advised enough to make, I will put you in irons and chain you to the deck. If, therefore, you are wise, you will submit to your present predicament with a good grace, rather than tempt a worse one. And now, tell me everything you know with regard to the fate of the crews of the Sapphire’s boats.”
“The Sapphire’s boats?” ejaculated the now thoroughly terrified wretch. “I swear to Gad, sar, dat I had not’ing to do vid dat! I know not’ing about dem; not’ing whatever! But I can tell you de name of de man who had; ay, and I can put him into your power, if you like; he is a villain, and it would be only doing a good action to betray him to justice. I vill do it, too, if you vill release me at vonce; I vill tell you all about him, vhere he is to be found vhen he visits de river, de name of his cheep, and—and—all dat is necessairey for you to know.”
“Yes; no doubt,” I answered. “But you will have to purchase your release in some other way, señor; unfortunately for you we know all about Don Fernando de Mendouca, captain of the brigantine Francesca and have every confidence in our ability to get hold of him without your assistance. And I may tell you that, up to the present, no charge has been made against you in connection with the disappearance of the Sapphire’s boats; you have therefore nothing to fear from us just now on that score. Now, will you tell us what you know about those unfortunate missing men?”
“Yes; yes, I vill, gentlemen; I vill tell you all dat I know; but it is not much,” answered Lobo, with evident relief. “I only know dat de scoundrel Mendouca managed to trap de two boats in some vay—how, I know not—and dat he gave dem de choice of being massacred, dere and den, or of surrendering and having dheir lives spared. And vhen dhey had surrendered he exchanged dhem to Matadi for slaves—t’ree slaves for every white man—so dat Matadi might have plenty of victims—white victims dhey consider very good—for de annual—de annual—what you call it, eh? festa.”
“Festival, I suppose you mean,” said I, with an involuntary shudder. “And, pray, Señor Lobo, do you happen to know the date of this festival?”
“No, I cannot say dat I do; but I t’ink about one week from now,” was the answer.
“Then, thank God, we are still in time!” I ejaculated. “Now, Señor Lobo, I presume you are acquainted with this chief, Matadi, are you not? You have probably had dealings with him, eh? Do not be afraid to give a truthful answer, because by so doing you cannot betray anything about yourself that we do not know already. We are fully aware, for instance, that you are a slave-dealer—among other things—and I have very little doubt that, if I chose to land a party, we should find a choice lot of negroes in that barracoon of yours in the bush, yonder—you look surprised, but, you see, I know all about you; so your best plan will be to answer my questions truthfully and unreservedly. Now, as to this Matadi, who is he, and what is he?”
“Sair,” said Lobo, in great perturbation, “I see dat you know all about me, so I will be perfectly open and frank wid you. I do know Matadi. He is a very powerful chief, de head of a tribe numbering quite t’ree t’ousand warriors; and his chief town is far up de river—four, five days’ journey in a canoe. It lies on de sout’ bank of de river ’bout eight miles below de first—what you call?—where de water runs very furious over de rocks, boiling like—like de water in a pot.”
“Ah, rapids, you mean, I suppose?” suggested I.