Page:Once a Week, Series 1, Volume II Dec 1859 to June 1860.pdf/138

4, 1860.] was made a Lion. The whim pleased me, and I felt half inclined to lead what you call an honest life; i. e., live as hard as you can without being particular about paying your bills. I announced myself as an anti-slavery man, and was dragged to Exeter Hall meetings. By the way, the Duchess of Bijou’s breakfast bored me; and men of my profession never being idle, I took the liberty of pocketing a few spoons and salt-cellars—here is one of them, try some salt out of it with your nuts. My yacht being built, I sent for my own crew; and the people in Cowes Roads were delighted at the way in which a native crew handled the craft. Some of your heavy dragoons and fresh-water men were very knowing on the subject, and I humoured them into the belief that they were right, although they knew nothing about it. I was made an honorary member of the Yacht Club, and started, as announced in the ‘Morning Post,’ for the coast of Africa. Thither I went, without any suspicion, shipped a cargo of niggers, and landed them safe in Cuba. Now,” he added, “I think I have been pretty candid; and you may warn your English friends on your return, that when they make Lions of unknown foreigners, to keep an eye to their spoons.”

“But why have you taken such care of me?” I could not help asking.

“Because,” he answered, “you are a peer’s nephew, and will be a peer some day, and if you don’t turn up there will be the deuce to pay. I remember when I was in London, a bishop was a passenger in a railway train when an accident occurred, and there was more row about that bishop than all the rest of the passengers, so I took a leaf out of the English book in treating you well. However, I am rewarded, for I think you will be an agreeable companion. Let me only give you one more caution, don’t be too polite to La Principessa, or you may find too much sugar in your grog some odd morning, as I cannot stand a rival.”

Well! I thought, I am in a pretty fix. Here I am the guest of a man who treats me well, and tells me quietly that I shall be poisoned if I make any overtures to the angel whom I intend to marry, and coolly hints at my coming short home if I go out of bounds, or seek after my companions.

Being an invalid, I pleaded fatigue early in the evening, and went to bed, but sleep would not come to me. I tossed about in my bed in a fever of excitement.

“Bother the pillow!” I inwardly exclaimed, as I pitched it across the room, and once more laid down my fevered head—it came in contact with something hard—on looking I found it was a coil of rope. I struck a light for the purpose of examining it; to my surprise, I discovered that it was a silken rope ladder, a note was tied to it on which was written—

“When you hear me singing ‘Hoop-de-doo-dum-doo,’ let yourself down, and lie hid in the orange grove, and wait for my coming.—S.”

I lay on the bed counting the minutes. The Princess was playing and singing to the Don, the fumes of whose cigar stole in at the window. I thought the signal would never come, when at last I heard the long wished-for sound. Without another moment’s consideration I followed the instructions contained in the note, and reached my hiding-place safely.

hardly been five minutes in my place of concealment, before I heard a footstep in the garden, and the Princess walked leisurely by the spot where I was lying, in company with the Don. My heart beat violently, as the least rustling of the leaves would have betrayed me.

“My dear Don, do have the yacht ready against our wedding-day, as I long for a cruise amongst these beautiful islands,” I heard her say.

“I will go now, and give the necessary orders,” answered the Don, “if that will please you.”

“Well,” she answered, “it is a beautiful night, and I should like to go with you, if it was not for my cold, and I should be sorry not to be well on my wedding-day.”

“So should I, too, dear Princess,” he answered: “so go to bed, and soft be your slumbers. I will go to the yacht and sleep on board of her.” So saying, he proceeded down the cliff, and hailed for a boat.

Well, I thought, you are a romantic scoundrel for a gentleman who steals spoons and kidnaps niggers.

No sooner had his footsteps died away, than La Principessa, who talked to him over the cliff as long as he was within hearing, came tripping back to me.

“Oh! my dear Mr. Bluejacket,” she exclaimed, “I thought I should have died with fright, just now—but all’s well that ends well. The Don would have shot you in a moment, if he had stumbled across you; but this is real luck getting rid of him, as we are safe till day-break. Now I have a plan for your escape.”

“Not without you,” I replied.

“That is as you wish, Mr. Bluejacket.”

“Will you stick to me, if I get you away?”

“Close as wax,” she replied; and we sealed the bargain after a fashion common to most civilised nations.

“Look here,” she said, “the Don is gone for to- night, but we had better do nothing till to-morrow, as we must secure the schooner. Your men are all slaves in a plantation two miles from this. That scoundrel makes them not only work but sleep fettered together. I can get the key to their manacles now, and also the key of the armoury, and you must do the rest; their hut is exactly two miles from this, straight up the mountain, you can see the light now. The only thing which you must do to-night is to take all the arms out, and hide them in the garden. I will help you, and if any of the servants interfere, stab them; our liberty is as valuable as their lives.”

“But who are you?” I asked.

“I am an Englishwoman,” she replied; “and no more a Princess than you are. My name is Figgs, and my father is a grocer in High Street, Whitechapel.”

“But how came you here?”