Stifling his new-sprung emotions as well as he was able—promising them indulgence at some other time—he re-bent his ear to listen.
He heard enough to satisfy him that he had a sister—a half-sister, it is true—but still a sister.
The next point determined on between the conspirators was equally calculated to startle and astonish him. It was no less than a design to render that sister brotherless!
“You musht put the shpell on him, too,” said the Jew; “for heesh the principal in thish plot againsht me. Even if the Cushtos wash out of the way, thish Captain Cubina will go to some other magistrate to carry out hish design. There will be plenty to help him. You musht shpell him, and soon ash you can, Shakra. There’sh no time to lose—not a minnit, s’help me!”
“A do wha a can, Massr Jake; but a mout’s well tell ye, that it a’nt so easy to put de spell on a Maroon. It coss me more’n twenty year to put de obeah on him ole fadder, and I’se a been tryin’ um on dis young Cubina fo’ some time—ebber since him fadder die. A hate de young un, same a hated de ole un. You knows why a hate boaf.”
“I knowsh all that—I knowsh all that.”
“Wa, den! a do ma bess. Dat ar m’latta gib me no hope. She soon ’dminster de spell ef she hab chance—kase she think um de lub drink. She no hab chance, fo’ Cubina he no let her come nigh o’ him. Nebba mind: Chakra he find oppotunity some day; ’fore long he put de death-spell on de son ob dat quaderoom.”
“Perhaps not so soon!” was the mental rejoinder of him who listened to this confident declaration.
“It’sh less matter about him than the other!” cried the Jew, giving way to a fresh burst of rage. “S’help me! the Cushtos is going to shlip out of my fingers—the eshtate—all! Ach!” he ejaculated, as his disappointment came more palpably before him, “you hash played me false, Shakra! I b’lief you’ve been playin’ me false!”
As the Jew gave utterance to this conjectural speech, he started to his feet—taking a tighter hold upon his umbrella, and standing before his vis-à-vis in a threatening attitude.