“Who?” inquired Cubina, half guessing at the answer.
“Them debbil’s kind—like enough company for the duppy—them dam’ Spaniards of de Jew’s penn.”
“Ah! maldito!” cried the Maroon captain, in a voice of alarm, at the same time making a gesture as if a light had suddenly broken upon him. “The Spaniards, you say! They, too, after him! Come, Quaco, down with that bundle! throw it in the bush—anywhere! there’s not a moment to be lost. I understand the series of encounters you have had upon the road. Luckily, I’ve brought my gun, and you yours. We may need them both before night. Down with the bundle, and follow me!”
“Stop and take me with you,” cried a voice from the edge of the glade; “I have a gun, too.”
And at the same moment the young Englishman, with his gun upon his shoulder, was seen emerging from the underwood and making towards the ceiba.
Volume Three—Chapter Eight.
An Uncle in Danger.
“You appear to be in great haste, Captain Cubina,” said Herbert, advancing in double-quick time. “May I know what’s the matter? Anything amiss?”