“Oh, yes; you know him youself. He Missa Kate’s cousin; she him love.”
“Her cousin, Herbert Vaughan?”
“Yes, he name Herber’; he come once—never more come. No matter, she love him first time—she him love ever more! Same I you, Cubina; I you love first time, all the same for ever.”
“You are sure of all this?” inquired Cubina, in his anxiety to know more, resisting the temptation to reciprocate the endearing speech; “you are sure Miss Vaughan loves her cousin Herbert?”
“Sure, Cubina; missa say so many, many time. She have very much grief for him. She hear he marry one fine, bad lady. You know old Jew Jess’ron—his daughter he go marry.”
“I have heard so,” rejoined Cubina, evidently keeping back from his sweetheart a more definite knowledge of the subject which he himself possessed; “I have heard so. After all,” he continued, speaking reflectingly, “it might not happen—neither of these marriages. There’s a proverb, Yola, I’ve heard among the white folks—‘Many a slip between the cup and the lip.’ I hope it won’t be true of you and me; but it might come to pass between young Master Vaughan and Miss Jessuron. Who knows? I know something. Por Dios! you’ve given me good news, I think, for somebody. But tell me, Yola; have you heard them say when your mistress and this great gentleman are to be married?”
“Massa he say soon. He tell Missa Kate he go great journey. When he come back they get marry; he Missa Kate say so yesterday.”
“The Custos going a journey? Have you heard where?”
“Spanish Town, missa me tell—a great big city far away.”
“I wonder what that can be for,” said Cubina to himself, in a conjectural way. “Well, Yola,” he added, after a pause, and speaking more earnestly, “listen to me. As soon as Mr Vaughan has set out on this journey, you come to me. Perhaps I may have a message for your mistress. Have you heard when he intends to take the road?”