The two plotters were palavering loud enough. In that place there was no need—at least, so thought they—for restrained speech; and the listener could have heard every word, but for the hoarse hissing of the cataract. This, at times, hindered him from distinguishing what was said; and only in detached portions could he pick up the thread of the discourse. Enough, however, heard he to cause him astonishment—the greatest of all, that in the Island of Jamaica, or upon the earth, existed two such villains as Chakra, the Coromantee, and Jessuron, the Jew!
He could see the conspirators as well as hear them. The chinks between the bamboos enabled him to obtain a view of both.
The Jew, slightly blown with his long walk against the hill, had dropped into a sitting attitude upon the truck-like bedstead; while the Coromantee stood before him, leaning against the buttress of the tree which formed one side of his dwelling.
The conversation had commenced before Cubina came up. It could not have proceeded far. The lard lamp seemed recently lit. Besides, the Maroon knew that he had been only a few minutes behind them. The plot, therefore, whatever it was, had not yet made much progress.
So reasoned the listener; but it soon appeared that it was the continuation of a plot, and not its first conception, to which he was to become privy—a plot so demoniac as to include murder in its design!
The Jew, when Cubina first got eyes on him, appeared as if he had just given utterance to some angry speech. His dark, weasel-like orbs were sparkling in their sunken sockets, with a fiendish light. The goggles were off, and the eyes could be seen. In his right hand the eternal umbrella was grasped, with a firm clutch, as if held in menace!
Chakra, on the other hand, appeared cowed and pleading. Though almost twice the size, and apparently twice the strength of the old Israelite, he looked at that moment as if in fear of him!
“Gorry, Massr Jake!” said he, in an appealing tone; “how ebber wa’ I to know de Cussus warn a gwine so soon? A nebber speered ob dat; an’ you nebber tole me you wanted de obeah-spell to work fasser dan war safe. Ef a’d a know’d dat, a kud a fotch de dam Cussus out o’ him boots in de shake ob a cat’s tail—dat cud a a’ did!”
“Ach!” exclaimed the Jew, with an air of unmistakable chagrin; “he’s going to shlip us. S’help me, he will! And now, when I wants more ash ever the shpell upon him. I’sh heard something from thish girl Cynthy of a conshpiracy against myshelf. Sheesh heard them plotting in the summer-house in the Cushtos’s garden.”
“Wha’ dey plot ’gain you, Massr Jake? Who am dey dat go plottin’?”