“We are safe from pursuit now,” said Van der Kemp in a tone of satisfaction, as they paused for a breathing spell.
“O massa!” exclaimed Moses at that moment, in a voice of consternation; “we’s forgotten Spinkie!”
“So we have!” returned the hermit in a voice of regret so profound that Nigel could scarce restrain a laugh in spite of his sympathy.
But Spinkie had not forgotten himself. Observing probably, that these night expeditions were a change in his master’s habits, he had kept an unusually watchful eye on the canoe, so that when it was put in the water, he had jumped on board unseen in the darkness, and had retired to the place where he usually slept under hatches when the canoe travelled at night.
Awakened from refreshing sleep at the sound of his name, Spinkie emerged suddenly from the stern-manhole, right under the negro’s nose, and with a sleepy “Oo, oo!” gazed up into his face.
“Ho! Dare you is, you mis’rible hyperkrite!” exclaimed Moses, kissing the animal in the depth of his satisfaction. “He’s here, massa, all right. Now, you go to bed agin, you small bundle ob hair.”
The creature retired obediently to its place, and laying its little cheek on one of its small hands, committed itself to repose.
Van der Kemp was wrong when he said they were safe. A pirate scout had seen the canoe depart. Being alone and distant from the rendezvous of his commander, some time elapsed before the news could be conveyed to him. When Baderoon was at length informed and had sailed out to sea in pursuit, returning daylight showed him that his intended victim had escaped.