CHAPTER THIRTY.
MORE LEAVE-TAKING--DEEP DESIGNS--BUMPUS IN A NEW CAPACITY.
On the particular day of which we are writing, Alice Mason felt anunusual depression of spirits. She had been told by her father of theintended departure of the widow and her son, and had been warned not tomention it to any one. In consequence of this, the poor child wasdebarred her usual consolation of pouring her grief into the black bosomof Poopy. It naturally followed, therefore, that she sought her nextfavourite--the tree.
Here, to her surprise and comfort, she found Corrie seated on one of itsroots, with his head resting on the stem, and his hands clasped beforehim. His general appearance was that of a human being in the depths ofwoe. On observing Alice, he started up, and assuming a cheerful look,ran to meet her.
"Oh! I'm so glad to find you here, Corrie," cried Alice, hasteningforward, "I'm in such distress! Do you know that--Oh!--I forgot; papasaid I was to tell nobody about it!"
"Don't let that trouble you, Alice," said Corrie, as they sat downtogether under the tree. "I know what you were about to say--Henry andhis mother are going away."
"How do you know that? I thought it was a great secret!"
"So it is, a _tremendous_ secret," rejoined Corrie, with a look that wasintended to be very mysterious; "and I know it, because I've been letinto the secret for reasons which I cannot tell even to you. But thereis another secret which you don't know yet, and which will surprise youperhaps. _I_ am going away, too!"
"You," exclaimed the little girl, her eyes dilating to their full size.
"Ay, me!"
"You're jesting, Corrie."
"Am I? I wish I was; but it's a fact."
"But where are you going to?" said Alice, her eyes filling with tears.
"I don't know."
"Corrie!"
"I tell you, I don't know; and if I did know, I couldn't tell. Listen,Alice, I will tell you as much as I am permitted to let out."
The boy became extremely solemn at this point, took the little girl'shand, and gazed into her face as he spoke.
"You must know," he began, "that Henry and his mother and I go awayto-night--"
"To-night?" cried Alice, quickly.
"To-night," repeated the boy. "Bumpus and Jakolu go with us. I havesaid that I don't know where we are going to, but I am pretty safe inassuring you that we are going somewhere. Why we are going, I amforbidden to tell--divulge, I think Henry called it, but what that meansI don't know. I can only guess it's another word for tell, and yet itcan't be that either, for you can speak of _telling_ lies, but you can'tspeak of _divulging_ them. However, that don't matter. But I'm notforbidden to tell you why _I_ am going away. In the first place, then,I'm going to seek my fortune! Where I'm to find it remains to be seen.The only thing I know is, that I mean to find it somewhere or other, andthen," (here Corrie became very impressive,) "come back and live besideyou and your father, not to speak of Poopy and Toozle."
Alice smiled sadly at this. Corrie looked graver than ever, and wenton--
"Meanwhile, during my absence, I will write letters to you, and you'llwrite ditto to me. I am going away because I ought to go and be doingsomething for myself. You know quite well that I would rather stopbeside you than go anywhere in this wide world, Alice; but that would bestupid. I'm getting to be a man now, and mustn't go on shewin' theweaknesses of a boy. In the second, or third, place--I forget which,but no matter--I am going with Henry because I could not go with abetter man; and in the fourth--if it's not the fifth--place, I'm goingbecause Uncle Ole Thorwald has long wished me to go to sea, and, to tellyou the truth, I would have gone long ago had it not been for you,Alice. There's only one thing that bothers me." Here Corrie looked athis fair companion with a perplexed air.
"What is that?" asked Alice, sympathetically.
"It is that I must go without saying good-bye to Uncle Ole. I'm _very_sorry about it. It will look so ungrateful to him; but it _can't_ behelped."
"Why not?" inquired Alice. "If he has often said he wished you to go tosea, would he not be delighted to hear that you are going?"
"Yes; but he must not know that I am going to-night, and with HenryStuart."
"Why not?"
"Ah! that's the point. Mystery! Alice--mystery! What a world ofmystery this is!" observed the precocious Corrie, shaking his head withprofound solemnity. "I've been involved, (I think that's the word,)rolled up, drowned, and buried in mystery for more than three weeks, andI'm beginning to fear that I'll never again git into the unmysteriouslyhappy state in which I lived before this abominable man-of-war came tothe island. No Alice, I dare not say anything more on that point evento you _just now_. But _won't_ I give it you all in my first letter?and _won't_ you open your eyes just until they look like two bluesaucers?"
Further conversation between the friends was interrupted at this pointby the inrushing of Toozle, followed up by Poopy, and, a short timeafter, by Mr Mason, who took Alice away with him, and left poor Corriedisconsolate.
While this was going on, John Bumpus was fulfilling his mission to OleThorwald.
He found that obstinate individual in his own parlour, deep in theinvestigation of the state of his books of business, which had beenallowed to fall into arrear during his absence.
"Come in, Bumpus. So I hear you were half-hanged when we were away."
Ole wheeled round on his stool and hooked his thumbs into the arm-holesof his vest as he said this, leaned his back against his desk, andregarded the seaman with a facetious look.
"Half-hanged, indeed," said Bumpus, indignantly. "I was more thanhalf--three-quarters at least. Why, the worst of it's over w'en therope's round your neck."
"That is a matter which you can't speak to, John Bumpus, seeing thatyou've never gone beyond the putting of the rope round your neck."
"Well, I'm content with wot I does happen to know about it," remarkedJo, making a wry face; "an' I hope that I'll never git the chance ofknowin' more. But I comed here on business, Mr Thorwald," (here Johnbecame mysterious and put his finger to his lips.) "I've comed here, MrThorwald, to--_split_."
As Ole did not quite understand the meaning of this word, and did notbelieve that the seaman actually meant to rend himself from head tofoot, he said--"Why, Bumpus, what d'ye mean?"
"I mean as how that I've comed to split on my comrades--w'ich means, I'mgoin' to tell upon 'em."
"Oh!" exclaimed Ole, eyeing the man with a look of distrust.
"Yes," pursued Bumpus, "I'm willin' to tell ye all about it, and preventhis escape, if you'll only promise, on yer word as a gin'lmun, that yewon't tell nobody else, but six niggers, who are more than enough tosarve your turn."
"Prevent whose escape?" said Thorwald with an excited look.
"Gascoyne's."
Ole jumped off his stool and hit his left palm a sounding blow with hisright fist.
"I knew it!" he exclaimed, staring into the face of the seaman. "I wassure of it! I said it! But how d'ye know, my man?"
"Ah! I'll not say another word if ye don't promise to let me go free,and only take six niggers with ye."
"Well, Bumpus, I do promise, on the word of a true Norseman, which ismuch better than that of a gentleman, that no harm shall come to you ifyou tell me all you know of this matter. But I will promise nothingmore; because if you won't tell me, you have told me enough to enable meto take such measures as will prevent Gascoyne from escaping."
"No, ye can't prevent it," said Bumpus, with an air of indifference."If ye don't choose to come to my way o' thinkin', ye can take yer owncoorse. But, let me tell you, there's more people on the island thatwill take Gascoyne's part than ye think of. There's the whole crew ofthe _Talisman_, whose cap'n he saved, and a lot besides; an' if ye docome to a fight about it, ye'll have a pretty tough scrimmage. Ther'llbe blood spilt, Mr Thorwald, an' it was partly to prevent that as Icomed here for. But you know best. You better take yer own way, anI'll take mine."
The cool impudence
, of manner with which John Bumpus said this had itseffect on Ole, who, although fond enough of fighting against enemies,had no sort of desire to fight against friends, especially for the sakeof a pirate.
"Come, Bumpus," said he, "you and I understand each other. Let us talkthe thing over calmly. I've quite as much objection to see unnecessarybloodshed as you have. We have had enough of that lately. Tell me whatyou know, and I promise to do what you recommend as far as I can inreason."
"Do you promise to let no one else know wot I tell ye?"
"I do."
"An' d'ye promise to take no more than six niggers to prewent thisescape?"
"Will six be enough?"
"Plenty; but, if that bothers ye, say twelve; I'm not partic'lar--saytwelve. That's more than enough, for they'll only have four to fightwith."
"Well, I promise that too."
"Good. Now I'll tell ye all about it," said Bumpus. "You see, althoughI'm splittin', I don't want to get my friends into trouble, and so I gotyou to promise; an' I trust to yer word, Mr Thorwald--you bein' agen'lmun. This is how it is. Young Henry Stuart thinks that althoughGascoyne is a pirate, or, rather, _was_ a pirate, he don't deserve to behanged. 'Cause why? Firstly, he never committed no murder; secondly,he saved the lives o' some of your people--Alice Mason among the rest;and, thirdly, he's an old friend o' the family as has done 'em goodsarvice long ago. So Henry's made up his mind that, as Gascoyne's sureto be hanged if he's tried, it's his duty to prewent that there fromhappenin' of. Now, ye see, Gascoyne is quite willin' to escape--"
"Hah! the villain!" exclaimed Ole; "I was sure of that. I knew wellenough that all his smooth-tongued humility was hypocrisy. I'm sorryfor Henry, and don't wish to thwart him; but it's clearly my duty toprevent this escape if I can."
"So I think, sir," said Bumpus; "so I think. That's just w'at I said tomyself w'en I made up my mind for to split. Gascoyne bein' willin'then, Henry has bribed the jailer, and he intends to open the jail doorfor him at twelve o'clock this night, and he'll know w'at to do with hislegs w'en he's got 'em free."
"But how am I to prevent his escape if I do not set a strong guard overthe prison?" exclaimed Ole, in an excited manner. "If he once gets intothe mountains I might as well try to catch a hare."
"All fair and softly, Mr Thorwald. Don't take on so. It ain't twoo'clock yet; we've lots o' time. Henry has arranged to get a boat readyfor him. At twelve o'clock to-night the doors will be opened and he'llstart for the boat. It will lie concealed among the rocks off the LongPoint. There's no mistakin' the spot, just west of the village; an' ifyou place your niggers there you'll have as good a chance as need be tonab 'em. Indeed, there's _two_ boats to be in waitin' for the piratecaptain and his friends--set 'em up!"
"And where is the second boat to be hidden?" asked Ole.
"I'm not sure of the exact spot, but it can't be very far off from thetother, cer'nly not a hundred miles," said Bumpus with a grin. "Now,wot I want is, that if ye get hold of the pirate ye'll be content, an'not go an' peach on Henry an' his comrades. They'll be so ashamed o'themselves at bein' nabbed in the wery act that they'll give it up as abad job. Besides, ye can then go an' give him in charge of CaptingMontague. But if ye try to _prewent_ the escape bein' attempted, Henrywill take the bloody way of it--for I tell _you_ his birse is up, an' nomistake."
"How many men are to be with Gascoyne?" asked Thorwald, who, had he notbeen naturally a stupid man, must have easily seen through this clumsyattempt to blind him.
"Just four," answered Bumpus; "an' I'm to be one of 'em."
"Well, Bumpus, I'll take your advice. I shall be at the Long Pointbefore twelve, with a dozen niggers, and I'll count on you lending us ahand."
"No, ye mustn't count on that, Mr Thorwald. Surely it's enough if Irun away and leave the others to fight."
"Very well, do as you please," said Thorwald, with a look of contempt.
"Good day, Mr Thorwald. You'll be sure to be there?"
"Trust me."
"An' you'll not say a word about it to nobody?"
"Not a syllable."
"That's all square. You'll see the boat w'en ye git there, and as longas ye see that boat yer all right. Good day, sir."
John Bumpus left Thorwald's house chuckling, and wended his way to thewidow's cottage, whistling the "Groves of Blarney."