“I tell you what, Claud. I should be mad indeed to stop here to be poisoned, or spirited away without an instant’s warning, and for the sake of a little money too, for that is what it will come to. No, no, brother; I have resolved to go away this very night, and you will accompany me, if you are not so mad as you would make me out.”
“Well, well, Martin, we will talk about it to-night, and make up our minds in the morning,” I replied; and when I said those words, I believed I should be able to dissuade my brother from what then appeared to me to be, at the least, a very wild project; but so eloquently and earnestly did he place before me the danger to be apprehended if we remained any longer under the same roof with Ebberfeld, that I not only permitted him to persuade me to join him in his flight, but became, if possible, more desirous than himself. But where were we to fly to? Martin suggested that we should go at once to the lower town, and, making a confidant of a certain merchant named Vandervelden, who had once been a clerk to our uncle, beg of him to send us to sea in one of his ships; and, as I could suggest no better scheme, we arranged to start the following morning about an hour before daybreak, before the household would be stirring, and when we knew that the road between the upper and lower towns would be clear. And now I have fully explained to you the events of those two years which led to our adventures in the wilds of the island.
CHAPTER V.
WE RUN AWAY AND TAKE SERVICE WITH “NEST-HUNTERS.”
Being of a more nervous temperament than my brother, I could not, like him, sleep at will, and that, too, upon the very eve of so important an enterprise. No! I lay awake, pondering upon the dark future, and weighing in my mind the probable consequences of a failure; then, again, there was Martin snoring loudly enough to prevent a whole house-full of people from sleeping. At length, however, Somnus must have taken me in his arms, for I dreamt that we had started upon our journey, but that, soon after we had left the house, Ebberfeld came suddenly behind us, and, taking hold of my ears, began to drag me back again; and the pain awaking me, I heard the voice of Martin.
“Claud—Claud!” he whispered in one ear, while he tugged at the other, “it is near daybreak; get up.”
“I don’t know; I should think not; it is very dark,” said I, really neither asleep nor awake; but another good tug, and “Come, get up, old fellow, or we sha’n’t be off before Ebberfeld is stirring.”
That name had a talismanic effect; it reminded me of the necessity for immediate action, so I jumped out of bed, dressed, and in a few minutes, with our boots in our hands, for fear of disturbing the inmates, we were softly stepping through the house; but, reaching the courtyard, we found the gates locked.
“This is a serious difficulty,” said I.
“Not at all,” replied Martin; “let us clamber over the wall.”
Fortunately, there were some tall trees within a few yards; one of these we ascended to the requisite height, and by a slight jump attained the top; then, dropping down upon the other side, we found ourselves in the open streets, alone—yes! alone in the world, prepared to encounter its sternest difficulties; and that, too, but with a small stock in trade to commence with—namely, ten dollars (“It is a shame we haven’t more with us, seeing that we have a fortune of our own, if we could only get at it,” said Martin), the clothes we stood upright in, a pair of rifled pistols, which had been presented to us by “my lady” some time before, and—though last, not least in utility—the Malay creese I had taken from the Chinese thief. Our prospects did not seem very bright, to be sure, but then it must be remembered, whether rightly or not, we felt convinced that we were flying for our lives; that feeling, and the full belief that two youths, numbering between them thirty-three years, strong, healthy, and determined, could not very well starve, whether in cities or forests, gave us such confidence that we set forth in excellent spirits.