He looked up towards the summit of the cliff, in whose dark shadow he was standing; and then, raising his eyes still higher, he gazed for a short while upon the sky. His glance betrayed that interrogative scrutiny characteristic of one who, not being furnished with a watch, endeavours to ascertain the time. Chakra needed no watch. By day, the sun was sufficient to inform him of the hour; by night the stars, which were old and familiar acquaintances.
The sinking of Orion towards the silvered surface of the sea told him that in two hours, or thereabout, no stars would be seen.
“Kupple ob hour!” muttered he, after making the observation; “woan do—woan do. By de time I get to de Duppy Hole fo’ de lamp, an’ den back to de rock fo’ fix um—It woan do! Adam an’ his men de better part ob an hour ’fore dey ked climb up hya; an’ den it be daylight. Daat woan do nohow. Muss be done in de night, else we git follered, an’ de Duppy Hole no longer safe ’treat fo’ Chakra. Mussent risk dat, whasomebber a do.
“Whugh!” he continued, after reflecting a moment, and with a look of villainous chagrin overspreading his countenance; “’tam a piece of cuss crooked luck fo’ me no’ be hya ’bout two hour soona. Dat ’ud ’a been s’fishint to got ’em all up in time; an’ dar wud den a been gobs o’ time to ’complish de whole bizness.
“Nebba mind!” cried he, after a pause, and rousing himself from the attitude of reflection; “nebba mind, ye old Coromantee fool! ’morra night do jess as well. Den dar be plenty ob time. ’Taint like dey get de dead corpus ob de Cussus back to de Buff afore two, tree day; an’ ef dat ere nigga fotch de news, it do no harm. Maybe do good, in de ’fusion it make ’bout de place. Nebba mind. It be all right fo’ ’morr’ night. ’Fore dis time ob de mornin’ de Lilly Quasheba—de beau’ful dauter ob dat proud quaderoom—she sleep in de ’brace o’ ole Chakra de myal-man. Whugh!
“Two hour ’fore day,” added he, after a longer pause, in which he appeared to gloat over his fiendish expectations; “two hour. I’se jess hab time go down to de Jew penn, an’ den back to de Duppy Hole ’fore daylight. Dat ole sinner, he want know what’s a been done; an’ a want get de balance ob dat fifty poun’. A mout stan’ need ob de money, now a’s a-gwine ta hab a wife, an’ take to de keepin’ ob a ’tablishment. Ha! ha! ha!”
And as he gave utterance to the laugh, the prospective bridegroom once more put his hideous form in motion, and followed the path leading to the Jew’s penn.