“No, I think that is all right, Moussa,” my host answered. “I am notfeeling very well to-night, though, and I should much prefer if youwould stay on the island.”
I saw a struggle between his fears and his duty upon the swarthy face ofthe African. His skin had turned of that livid purplish tint whichstands for pallor in a negro, and his eyes looked furtively about him.
“No, no, Massa Walker,” he cried, at last, “you better come to the hulkwith me, sah. Look after you much better in the hulk, sah!”
“That won’t do, Moussa. White men don’t run away from the posts wherethey are placed.”
Again I saw the passionate struggle in the negro’s face, and again hisfears prevailed.
“No use, Massa Walker, sah!” he cried. “S’elp me, I can’t do it. If itwas yesterday or if it was to-morrow, but this is the third night, sah,an’ it’s more than I can face.”
Walker shrugged his shoulders.
“Off with you then!” said he. “When the mail-boat comes you can get backto Sierra Leone, for I’ll have no servant who deserts me when I need himmost. I suppose this is all mystery to you, or has the Doctor told you,Captain Meldrum?”
“I showed Captain Meldrum the cooperage, but I did not tell himanything,” said Dr. Severall. “You’re looking bad, Walker,” he added,glancing at his companion. “You have a strong touch coming on you.”
“Yes, I’ve had the shivers all day, and now my head is like acannon-ball. I took ten grains of quinine, and my ears are singing likea kettle. But I want to sleep with you in the cooperage to-night.”
“No, no, my dear chap. I won’t hear of such a thing. You must get to bedat once, and I am sure Meldrum will excuse you. I shall sleep in thecooperage, and I promise you that I’ll be round with your medicinebefore breakfast.”
It was evident that Walker had been struck by one of those sudden andviolent attacks of remittent fever which are the curse of the WestCoast. His sallow cheeks were flushed and his eyes shining with fever,and suddenly as he sat there he began to croon out a song in thehigh-pitched voice of delirium.
“Come, come, we must get you to bed, old chap,” said the Doctor, andwith my aid he led his friend into his bedroom. There we undressed him,and presently, after taking a strong sedative, he settled down into adeep slumber.
“He’s right for the night,” said the Doctor, as we sat down and filledour glasses once more. “Sometimes it is my turn and sometimes his, but,fortunately, we have never been down together. I should have been sorryto be out of it to-night, for I have a little mystery to unravel. I toldyou that I intended to sleep in the cooperage.”
“Yes, you said so.”
“When I said sleep I meant watch, for there will be no sleep for me.We’ve had such a scare here that no native will stay after sundown, andI mean to find out to-night what the cause of it all may be. It hasalways been the custom for a native watchman to sleep in the cooperage,to prevent the barrel hoops being stolen. Well, six days ago the fellowwho slept there disappeared, and we have never seen a trace of himsince. It was certainly singular, for no canoe had been taken, and thesewaters are too full of crocodiles for any man to swim to shore. Whatbecame of the fellow, or how he could have left the island is a completemystery. Walker and I were merely surprised, but the blacks were badlyscared, and queer Voodoo tales began to get about amongst them. But thereal stampede broke out three nights ago, when the new watchman in thecooperage also disappeared.”
“What became of him?” I asked.
“Well, we not only don’t know, but we can’t even give a guess whichwould fit the facts. The niggers swear there is a fiend in the cooperagewho claims a man every third night. They wouldn’t stay in theisland—nothing could persuade them. Even Moussa, who is a faithful boyenough, would, as you have seen, leave his master in a fever rather thanremain for the night. If we are to continue to run this place we mustreassure our niggers, and I don’t know any better way of doing it thanby putting in a night there myself. This is the third night, you see, soI suppose the thing is due, whatever it may be.”
“Have you no clue?” I asked. “Was there no mark of violence, noblood-stain, no footprints, nothing to give a hint as to what kind ofdanger you may have to meet?”
“Absolutely nothing. The man was gone and that was all. Last time it wasold Ali, who has been wharf-tender here since the place was started. Hewas always as steady as a rock, and nothing but foul play would take himfrom his work.”
“Well,” said I, “I really don’t think that this is a one-man job. Yourfriend is full of laudanum, and come what might he can be of noassistance to you. You must let me stay and put in a night with you atthe cooperage.”
“Well, now, that’s very good of you, Meldrum,” said he heartily, shakingmy hand across the table. “It’s not a thing that I should have venturedto propose, for it is asking a good deal of a casual visitor, but if youreally mean it——”
“Certainly I mean it. If you will excuse me a moment, I will hail the_Gamecock_ and let them know that they need not expect me.”
As we came back from the other end of the little jetty we were bothstruck by the appearance of the night. A huge blue-black pile of cloudshad built itself up upon the landward side, and the wind came from it inlittle hot pants, which beat upon our faces like the draught from ablast furnace. Under the jetty the river was swirling and hissing,tossing little white spurts of spray over the planking.
“Confound it!” said Doctor Severall. “We are likely to have a flood onthe top of all our troubles. That rise in the river means heavy rainup-country, and when it once begins you never know how far it will go.We’ve had the island nearly covered before now. Well, we’ll just go andsee that Walker is comfortable, and then if you like we’ll settle downin our quarters.”
The sick man was sunk in a profound slumber, and we left him with somecrushed limes in a glass beside him in case he should awake with thethirst of fever upon him. Then we made our way through the unnaturalgloom thrown by that menacing cloud. The river had risen so high thatthe little bay which I have described at the end of the island hadbecome almost obliterated through the submerging of its flankingpeninsula. The great raft of driftwood, with the huge black tree in
themiddle, was swaying up and down in the swollen current.
“That’s one good thing a flood will do for us,” said the Doctor. “Itcarries away all the vegetable stuff which is brought down on to theeast end of the island. It came down with the freshet the other day, andhere it will stay until a flood sweeps it out into the main stream.Well, here’s our room, and here are some books, and here is my tobaccopouch, and we must try and put in the night as best we may.”
By the light of our single lantern the great lonely room looked verygaunt and dreary. Save for the piles of staves and heaps of hoops therewas absolutely nothing in it, with the exception of the mattress for theDoctor, which had been laid in the corner. We made a couple of seats anda table out of the staves, and settled down together for a long vigil.Severall had brought a revolver for me, and was himself armed with adouble-barrelled shot-gun. We loaded our weapons and laid them cockedwithin reach of our hands. The little circle of light and the blackshadows arching over us were so melancholy that he went off to thehouse, and returned with two candles. One side of the cooperage waspierced, however, by several open windows, and it was only by screeningour lights behind staves that we could prevent them from beingextinguished.
The Doctor, who appeared to be a man of iron nerves, had settled down toa book, but I observed that every now and then he laid it upon his knee,and took an earnest look all round him. For my part, although I triedonce or twice to read, I found it impossible to concentrate my thoughtsupon the book. They would always wander back to this great empty silentroom, and to the sinister mystery which overshadowed it. I racked mybrains for some possible theory which would explain the disappearance ofthese two men. There was the black fact that they were gone, and not theleast tittle of evidence as to why or whither. And here we were waitingin the same place—waiting without an idea as to what we were waitingfor. I was right in saying that it was not a one-man job. It was tryingenough as it was, but no force upon earth would have kept me therewithout a comrade.