Magistrate and Maroon.
“Well, young man,” continued the Custos, in an affable tone, “you, I believe, are one of the Maroons of Trelawney?”
“Yes, worship,” bluntly rejoined Cubina. “The captain of a town, are you not?”
“Only a few families, worship. Ours is a small settlement.”
“And your name is—?”
“Cubina.”
“Ah! I’ve heard the name,” said the Custos. “I think,” added he, with a significant smile, “we have a young girl here on the plantation who knows you?”
Cubina blushed, as he stammered out an affirmative.
“Oh! that’s all right,” said the planter, encouragingly. “So long as there’s no harm meant, there’s no harm done. Mr Trusty tells me you have business with me. Is it about that?”
“About what, your worship?” inquired the Maroon, a little taken by surprise at the question so unexpectedly put to him. “About your sweetheart!”