Peter shook his head and grinned solemnly. ‘No, Mistah Delgado, him doan’t no brown man,’ he answered, laughing. ‘Him is dark for true, but still him real buckra. Him stoppin’ up at house along ob de massa!’
Delgado turned to his work once more, doggedly. ‘If him buckra, an’ if him stoppin’ up wit dem Dupuy,’ he said half aloud, but so that the wondering Peter could easily overhear it, ‘when de great an’ terrible day come, he will be cut off wit all de household. An’ de day doan’t gwine to be delayed long now, neider.’ A mumbled Arabic sentence, which Peter of course could not understand, gave point and terror to this last prediction. Peter turned away, thinking to himself that Louis Delgado was a terrible obeah man and sorcerer for certain, and that whoever crossed his path, had better think twice before he offended so powerful an antagonist.
Meanwhile, Harry Noel was still riding on to Orange Grove. As he reached the garden gate, Tom Dupuy met him, out for a walk in the cool of the evening with big Slot, his great Cuban bloodhound. As Harry drew near, Slot burst away suddenly with a leap from his master, and before Harry could foresee what was going to happen, the huge brute had sprung up at him fiercely, and was attacking him with his mighty teeth and paws, as though about to drag him from his seat forcibly with his slobbering canines. Harry hit out at the beast a vicious blow from the butt-end of his riding-whip, and at the same moment Tom Dupuy, sauntering up somewhat more lazily than politeness or even common humanity perhaps demanded, caught the dog steadily by the neck and held him back by main force, still struggling vehemently and pulling at the collar. His great slobbering jaws opened hungrily towards the angry Englishman, and his eyes gleamed with the fierce light of a starving carnivore in sight and smell of his natural prey.
‘Precious vicious dog you keep, Mr Dupuy,’ Harry exclaimed, not over good-humouredly, for the brute had made its teeth meet through the flap of his coat lappets: ‘you oughtn’t to let him go at large, I fancy.’
Tom Dupuy stooped and patted his huge favourite lovingly on the head with very little hypocritical show of penitence or apology. ‘He don’t often go off this way,’ he answered coolly. ‘He’s a Cuban bloodhound, Slot is; pure-blooded—the same kind we used to train in the good old days to hunt up the runaway niggers; and they often go at a black man or a brown man—that’s what they’re meant for. The moment they smell African blood, they’re after it, like a greyhound after a hare, as quick as lightning. But I never knew Slot before go for a white man! It’s very singular—ex-cessively singular. I never before knew him go for a real white man.’
‘If he was my dog,’ Harry Noel answered, walking his pony up to the door with a sharp lookout on the ugly mouth of the straining and quivering bloodhound, ‘he’d never have the chance again, I can tell you, to go for another. The brute’s most dangerous—a most bloodthirsty creature. And indeed, I’m not sentimental myself on the matter of niggers; but I don’t know that in a country where there are so many niggers knocking about casually everywhere, any man has got a right to keep a dog that darts straight at them as a greyhound darts at a hare, according to your own confession. It doesn’t seem to me exactly right or proper somehow.’
Tom Dupuy glanced carelessly at the struggling brute and answered with a coarse laugh: ‘I see, Mr Noel, you’ve been taking counsel already with your friend Hawthorn. Well, well, in my opinion, I expect there’s just about a pair of you!’
(To be continued.)
TOBACCO CULTIVATION.
The question of the cultivation of tobacco has recently been brought within the range of practical agriculture. In both Houses of Parliament the government has announced that permission will be given to grow this plant, and cure it in proper manner, as experiments, in various parts of the country, and more especially in Ireland. The Council of the Royal Agricultural Society of England, with His Royal Highness the Prince of Wales in the chair, determined to help the government in the matter, provided the government gave a grant towards the experiments. The subject thus becomes one of special moment. It is very doubtful, however, whether any experiments that can be made will give us much more information than we at present have regarding this crop. That it can be grown in this country is certain. To take up the first seed catalogue that comes to our hand—that of Messrs Carter & Co.—we find that for a long series of years past, the seed of no fewer than seven varieties of Nicotiana is announced as for sale. The plants are grown in many gardens, and the leaves are dried and used as fumigants against insects. In fact, so simple is the growth of the plant, that the only directions given are to ‘Sow on heat, and transplant to good, rich, loamy soil, or sow out of doors in May.’ That the plant can be grown is certain; but if grown on an agricultural scale, it will have to bear with the usual effects of climate, injurious insects, and the thousand-and-one ills which plant-life is heir to. That is, so far as the plant is concerned. The great difficulty in every country will begin with the curing, and is the cause of the tobacco crop being gradually given up.