We must have traveled at least five miles, I judged, when the wheels ceased to turn. The cloths were taken from our heads. The bonds on our arms and legs remained. There was one black who spoke some English, and he warned us to make no noise.
"We put them on again, if you do," he said.
Once more the wagon moved on. The stars shone overhead, and I could see trees and palms looking down on me, now and then.
"This is a pretty pickle you've pulled me into," Ray said. "My mouth all tied up for more than an hour; and my liver's all scrambled." Ray would make a joke of the rope, if the hangman's noose were round his neck. I've never known a situation so bad as to dampen his spirits. I would have liked to talk with him about our present unhappy situation, and try to devise something by way of bettering it; but there was that black man who spoke English. With him on the seat, and in the wagon box were four other blacks,—as I finally made out—Duran was making sure of our security. I wondered how far it would be to this place on the coast, where we were to be met by the Orion.
Day finally came, and we were allowed to sit, thus having our heads more in the air. Ray grumbled about the hardness of the springs—the wagon had none—; and the meat, and bread, and water, that were thrust into his mouth did not make a breakfast to his liking. The morning was not yet half gone, when we came to a stop, at a hut by the roadside. Then came an opportunity that I had not even ventured to hope for—an opportunity to send a message back to our friends.
The black who spoke English came and leaned on the wagon wheel. He had something to say to us. He offered us freedom, on condition that we should prepare a message to be taken back to our friends on the Pearl, a writing that should induce them to remain in harbor, and cease to follow the Orion.
"You will then let us go back to our friends?" I asked.
"Yes, you go back," he said.
I felt that the fellow lied, for he would not have time to learn the result of the message before meeting with the Orion; for that would not appear until the Orion had sailed away. And Duran was little likely to permit us to go back and point out to our friends the way the Orion had gone. But of course I jumped at the proposal.
"Just plain letter," the black said. "No trick letter," he warned.