The Sea-Witch, Maturin Murray Ballou [nonfiction book recommendations txt] 📗

terrible slaughter among them seemed to deter them from the idea of a second attack, but the loud report of the gun rapidly augmented the numbers of the blacks, until they made a second onslaught, with almost precisely the same effect. They could scale the stockade only on this side, while on the other, or opposite side, Captain Ratlin kept up such a deadly and accurate fire of musketry, that every one who approached the buildings was sure to forfeit his life. It was fortunate that this arrangement had been made, for the negroes twice attempted to set the dwellings on fire from the rear, but were instantly repulsed by Captain Ratlin’s double-barrelled gun, which was ready loaded by his side, and which he used with fearful accuracy of aim on every approaching object.

The negroes seemed to be wrought up to such a state of excitement that they would not give over their purpose, though it involved such immense risk and sacrifice of life, and the attack was continued, at intervals, far into the morning, and long after the regular course of duty, until at last the negroes divided their mutilated numbers into four parties, and it was evidently their last and most determined attempt. They did not hurry this, but seemed to pause and take refreshments and rest for a couple of hours, when once more the onslaught commenced, and the inhabitants of the stockade found it a desperate fight, and one even of doubtful result, if long continued as it began.

“Keep the black imps clear, don, for a short half-hour longer, and it will be all up with them,” shouted Captain Ratlin, from the rear. “I see a heavy square-rig rounding the point and standing in for an anchorage; we shall find civilized help.”

“That is lucky,” growled the Spaniard, as he coolly shot down a negro; “our powder is fast giving out.”

The inhabitants of the stockade sadly needed assistance at this critical juncture, for the infuriated savages had become desperate and reckless in their attack, and must soon have carried the building by storm. But there soon pulled to the beach a half-dozen boats, with a detachment of marines and seamen, led on at full speed by an officer, before whose approach the angry negroes retired exhausted, leaving many dead upon the ground, and many too severely wounded to effect their retreat to the jungle. The fight had been a very sanguinary one to the half witted creatures outside the stockade.

The new comers were an officer and part of the crew of a man-of-war that was cruising upon the coast, and which had been attracted to the harbor by the firing of the heavy swivel. They were admitted within the stockade. That they were English was at once observable, by the flag that floated from the graceful craft that had now rounded to and come to an anchor within blank cartridge shot of the factory or barracoons. The officer felt authorized to interfere, as we have seen, but his power of search and of interference in the peculiar trade of the coast ceased the moment he touched the land. His jurisdiction did not extend over any residents on their property, unless it was afloat; over the coast and rivers he claimed jurisdiction only.

The new comers were hospitably entertained by Don Leonardo, white the officer who had led them, and whose insignia of rank betrayed his station as captain, was introduced into the more private apartments of the place, where were the ladies and Captain Ratlin, the latter trying to re-assure them, and to quiet their fears on account of the late fearful business of the fight. He was thus engaged when the English captain entered, and was not a little astonished to hear the mutual expressions of surprise that were uttered by both the ladies and the officer himself, while a moment sufficed to show them to be old acquaintances! The reader would here recognize, in the new comer, Captain Robert Bramble, whom we saw paying suit to Miss Huntington, not long previous, on the shady verandah of her mother’s house, in the environs of Calcutta.

Notwithstanding the excitement of the moment, and the joy felt on all sides at the timely arrival of the English officer and his people,—notwithstanding the surprise of the moment, that filled all present at the singular melting of old friends under such extraordinary circumstances, yet a close observer might have noticed an ill-suppressed expression of dissatisfaction upon Captain Ratlin’s face, as he saw the English captain in friendly and even familiar intercourse with mother and daughter.

“Who could have possibly foreseen this strange, this opportune meeting?” said the mother.

“It is as strange as agreeable, I assure you,” replied the new comer. “And you were wrecked and picked up at sea, you say, and brought here by—”

“Captain Ratlin,” interrupted the daughter, fearing that her mother would have introduced a word that would have betrayed their protector.

“Yes, by Captain Ratlin,” continued the mother, “permit me to introduce you, gentlemen. Captain Bramble, this is Captain Ratlin; you are both seamen, and there is no need of compliments, though I am seriously indebted to you both.”

“Of the merchant service, I presume?” said the English officer, regarding the young and handsome commander of the “Sea Witch” with a somewhat suspicious eye.

“From childhood,” was the cool reply, while, as though by a feeling of common content, both turned away from each other, to other objects.

Captain Bramble saw that she whom he had so profitlessly saved,—she whose smile would have been invaluable to him, now spoke low and gently to the merchant captain; and even smiled kindly upon his remarks to her, of whatever nature they might be. Doubtless, from the moment of their introduction, a vague suspicion of his true character crossed the English officer’s thoughts, but now he needed no other incentive, than the fact that Miss Huntington received and entertained his addresses so agreeably, and with such evident pleasure, to make him more than watchful, and resolved to find out the truth.

“You are not long arrived, Captain Ratlin?” asked the other.

“Within these two weeks,” was the calm reply.

“Not seeing your vessel, I presume she has gone to the windward, for ivory.”

“Or perhaps to leeward for other cargo,” answered the other, somewhat haughtily.

The hint was sufficient, and the English officer saw that, let his trade be what it might, he had one to deal with who was master of his own business, and who feared no one.

It was nearly night when Maud Leonardo reappeared, expressing profound surprise at what had occurred, and feigning well-assumed grief and regret, so honestly, too, as to deceive all parties who observed her. But her secret chagrin could hardly be expressed. Indeed, her father, who knew her better than any one else, saw that there was something wrong in his daughter’s spirit, that some event had seriously annoyed and moved her. He knew the child possessed of much of her mother’s wild, revengeful disposition, and though even he never for a moment suspected her unnatural treachery, yet he resolved to watch her.

The negroes she had joined in the attack were completely routed and disheartened, and fearing the power and cunning of Don Leonardo, retreated far inland and incorporated themselves with the tribes that gather their wild and precarious living in the depths of the jungle.

 

CHAPTER X.

THE DUEL.

 

AFFAIRS in the immediate vicinity of Don Leonardo’s residence began to assume a singular and very peculiar aspect. In the first place, there was within doors, and under his immediate roof, four new comers, nearly each of which was actuated by some contrary purpose or design. Mrs. Huntington was exceedingly desirous to obtain passage up the coast to Sierra Leone, and thence home to England; her daughter secretly dreaded the approach of the hour that was to separate her from one whom in her unrevealed heart she devotedly loved. Captain Ratlin was, of course, all impatience to have the English cruiser up anchor and leave the harbor, her proximity to his own fleet clipper ship being altogether too close, while, Captain Bramble felt in no haste to leave port for several reasons. First, he had a suspicion that he should soon be able to trip up the heels of his rival, as it regarded this business on the coast; and secondly, he was very content to have Miss Huntington remain here, because he knew if she was once landed at Sierra Leone, she would directly sail for England.

Don Leonardo heartily wished them all at the bottom of the sea, or any other place except his house, with the exception, of course, of Captain Ratlin, whose business with him was seriously impeded by the presence of these parties. Maud, too, was not a disinterested party, as the reader may well imagine, after the audacious treachery which she had already evinced; but she was comparatively passive now, and seemed quietly to bide her time for accomplishing her second resolve touching him she once loved but now hated, as well as satisfying her revengeful spirit by the misery or destruction of her rival. We say affairs in Don Leonardo’s residence had assumed a singular and peculiar aspect, and the dull routine of everyday life that had characterized the last year was totally changed.

The singular coincidence of the meeting between Miss Huntington and her rejected lover, Captain Bramble, under such singular circumstances, led him once more to press this suit, and now, as she regarded him largely in the light of a protector, the widow quite approved of his intimacy, and indeed, as far as propriety would permit, seconded his suit with her daughter. When in India, she had looked most favorably upon Captain Bramble’s intimacy with her child, where there were accessory circumstances to further her claims; but now she soon told her daughter in private, that Captain Bramble was a match fit and proper in all respects for such as she was.

“But, mother—”

“Well, my child?”

“Suppose, for instance, that I do not like Captain Bramble, then is he a fitting match for me?”

“Not like him, my child?”

“Yes, mother, not like him.”

“Why, is he not gentlemanly?”

“Yes.”

“And of good family?”

“Undoubtedly.”

“And handsome, and—”

“Hold, mother, you need not extend the catalogue. Captain Bramble can never be my husband,” she said, in a mild but determined tone that her mother understood very well.

But Captain Bramble himself could not seem to understand this, notwithstanding she was perfectly frank and open with him. He seemed to be running away with the idea that if he could but get rid of Captain Ratlin, in some way, he should then have a clear field, and be able to win her hand under the peculiar circumstances surrounding her. Thus moved, he redoubled his watchfulness touching the captain’s movements, satisfied that he should be able ere long to detect him in some intrigue, as to running a cargo of slaves, and doubtless under such circumstances that he could arrest and detain him, if not, by some lucky chance, even have him tried and adjudged upon by the English commission upon the coast.

To suppose that Captain Ratlin did not understand entirely the motives and conduct of his enemy and would-be rival, would be to give him less credit for discernment than he deserved. He understood the matter very well, and, indeed, bore with assumed patience, for Miss Huntington’s sake, many impertinences that he would otherwise have instantly asserted. But he marked out for himself a course, and he resolved to adhere to it. Captain Bramble was not only a suitor of Miss Huntington’s, but an old and intimate friend, as he learned from her family, and therefore he should avoid all quarrel whatever with him, and so he did on his own part; but the English officer, enraged by his apparent success,