"Ha! the villain!" exclaimed Ole; "I was sure of that. I knew well enough that all his smooth-tongued humility was hypocrisy. I'm sorry for Henry, and don't wish to thwart him; but it's clearly my duty to prevent this escape if I can."
"So I think, sir," said Bumpus; "so I think. That's just w'at I said to meself 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 door for him at twelve o'clock this night, and he'll know w'at to do with his legs w'en he's got 'em free."
"But how am I to prevent his escape if I do not set a strong guard over the prison?" exclaimed Ole, in an excited manner. "If he once gets into the mountains, I might as well try to catch a hare."
"All fair and softly, Mr. Thorwald. Don't take on so. It ain't two o'clock yet; we've lots o' time. Henry has arranged to get a boat ready for him. At twelve o'clock to-night the doors will be opened, and he'll start for the boat. It will lie concealed among the rocks off the Long Point. There's no mistakin' the spot, just west of the village; an' if you place your niggers there, you'll have as good chance as need be to nab 'em. Indeed, there's two boats to be in waitin' for the pirate captain 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 the tother, 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 a bad job. Besides, ye can then go an' give him in charge of Capting Montague. But if ye try to prewent the escape bein' attempted, Henry will take the bloody way of it; for I tell you, his birse is up, an' no mistake."
"How many men are to be with Gascoyne?" asked Thorwald, who, had he not been naturally a stupid man, must have easily seen through this clumsy attempt 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 Point before twelve, with a dozen niggers, and I'll count on you lending us a hand."
"No, ye mustn't count on that, Mr. Thorwald. Surely, it's enough if I run 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 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 long as ye see that boat yer all right. Good day, sir."
John Bumpus left Thorwald's house chuckling, and wended his way to the widow's cottage, whistling the "Groves of Blarney."
CHAPTER XXXI.
The Ambush—The Escape—Retributive Justice—And Conclusion
An hour before the appointed time, Ole Thorwald, under cover of a dark night, stole out of his own dwelling, with slow and wary step, and crossed the little plot of ground that lay in front of it, with the sly and mysterious air of a burglar rather than that of an honest man.
Outside his gate he was met in the same cautious manner by a dark-skinned human being, the character of whose garments was something between those of a sailor and a West India planter. This was Sambo, Thorwald's major-domo, clerk, overseer, and right-hand man. Sambo was not his proper name; but his master, regarding him as being the embodiment of all the excellent qualities that could by any possibility exist in the person of a South Sea islander, had bestowed upon him the generic name of the dark race, in addition to that wherewith Mr. Mason had gifted him on the day of his baptism.
Sambo and his master exchanged a few words in low whispers, and then gliding down the path that led from the stout merchant's house to the south side of the village, they entered the woods that lined the shore, like two men bent on a purpose which might or might not be of the blackest possible kind.
"I don't half like this sort of work, Sambo," observed Thorwald, speaking and treading with less caution as they left the settlement behind them. "Ambushments, surprises, and night forages, especially when they include Goat's Passes, don't suit me at all. I have a strong antipathy to everything in the way of warfare, save a fair field and no favor, under the satisfactory light of the sun."
"Ho!" said Sambo, quietly; as much as to say, "I hear and appreciate, but having no observation to make in reply, I wait for more from your honored lips."
"Now, you see," pursued Thorwald, "if I were to follow my own tastes, which, it seems to me, I am destined not to be allowed to do any more in the affairs of this world, if I may judge by the events of the past month,—if I were to follow my own tastes, I say, I would go boldly to the prison where this pestiferous pirate captain lies, put double irons on him, and place a strong guard round the building. In this case I would be ready to defend it against any odds, and would have the satisfaction of standing up for the rights of the settlement like a man, and of hurling defiance at the entire British navy, at least such portions of it as happens to be on the island at this time, if they were to attempt a rescue—as this Bumpus hints they are likely to do. Yet it seems to me strange and unaccountable that they should thus interest themselves in a vile pirate. I verily believe that I have been deceived; but it is too late now to alter my plans, or to hesitate. Truly, it seemeth to me that I might style myself an ass, without impropriety."
"Ho!" remarked Sambo; and the grin with which the remark was accompanied seemed to imply that he not only appreciated his master's sentiment, but agreed with it entirely.
"You've got eleven men, I trust. Sambo?"
"Yes, mass'r."
"All good and true, I hope—men who can be trusted both in regard to their fighting qualities and their ability to hold their tongues."
"Dumb as owls, ebery von," returned Sambo.
"Good! You see, my man, I must not permit that fellow to escape; at the same time I do not wish to blazon abroad, that it is my friend Henry Stuart who is helping him. Neither do I wish to run the risk of killing my friends in a scrimmage, if they are so foolish as to resist me; therefore I am particular about the men you have told off for this duty. Where did you say they are to meet us?"
"Close by de point, mass'r."
A few minutes' walk brought them to the point, where the men were awaiting them. As far as Ole could judge, by the dim light of a few stars that struggled through the cloudy sky, they were eleven as stout fellows as any warrior could desire to have at his back in a hand-to-hand conflict. They were all natives, clothed much in the same manner as Sambo, and armed with heavy clubs; for, as we have seen, Thorwald was resolved that this should be a bloodless victory.
"Whereabouts is the boat?" whispered Ole to his henchman, as he groped his way down the rocky slopes toward the shore.
"'Bout two hondr'd yards more farder in front," said Sambo.
"Then I'll place the men here," said Ole, turning to the natives, who were following close at his heels. "Now, boys, remain under cover of this rock till I lead you on to the attack; and, mind what I say to you,—no killing! Some of the party are my friends; d'ye understand? I don't want to do them a damage; but I do want to prevent their letting off as great a villain, I believe, as ever sailed the ocean under a black flag—only his was a red