Volume One—Chapter Twenty Seven.
The Maroons.
As soon as they were gone out of sight, the hunter turned towards Herbert, his eyes sparkling with gratitude.
“Master!” said he, making a low obeisance as he spoke, “after that, words are but a poor way of offering thanks. If the brave white gentleman who has risked his life for a coloured outcast will let me know his name, it will not be forgotten by Cubina, the Maroon.”
“Cubina, the Maroon!” Struck by the oddness of the name and title—as he had already been by the appearance and behaviour of him who bore them—Herbert repeated the phrase mechanically, rather than otherwise.
“Yes, that is my name, master.” The young Englishman, though not yet enlightened as to the odd appellation, was too well-bred to press for an explanation.
“Pardon me,” said he, “for not directly replying to your request. I am an Englishman; my name Vaughan—Herbert Vaughan.”
“By that name, master, I take it you have relatives in the island. The owner of Mount Welcome estate—”
“Is my uncle.”