The Madman and the Pirate | Page 9

yous fadder was not shooted?" he began, in gasping anxiety, when he had forced the boy down on a grassy bank.
"I think not," replied Orley, with a faint smile at the negro's eagerness. "But you must remember that I was almost unconscious from the blow I received, and scarce knew what was done."
"But you no hear no shootin'?" persisted Ebony.
"No; and if any shots had been fired, I feel certain I should have heard and remembered them."
"Good! den der's a chance yous fadder's alive, for if de no hab shooted him at first, de no hab de heart to shoot him arterwards. No, he'd smile away der wikitness; de couldn' do it."
Orlando was unable to derive much comfort from this sanguine view of the influence of his father's smile--bright and sweet though he knew it to be--yet with the energy of youth he grasped at any straw of hope held out to him. All the more that Ebony's views were emphatically backed up by the chiefs Tomeo and Buttchee, both of whom asserted that Zeppa had never failed in anything he had ever undertaken, and that it was impossible he should fail now. Thus encouraged, Orlando returned home to comfort his mother.
Chapter III.
But Orley's mother refused to be comforted. What she had heard or read of pirates induced her to believe that mercy must necessarily be entirely banished from their hearts; and her husband, she knew full well, would sooner die than join them. Therefore, she argued in her despair, Antonio must have perished.
"But mother," said Orley, in a soothing tone, "you must remember that Rosco and his men are not regular pirates. I only heard them shout 'Hoist the black flag!' when they seized me; but that does not prove that they did hoist it, or that Rosco agreed to do so. They were only mutineers, you see, and not hardened villains."
"Hardened enough when they threw you overboard, my son," returned poor little Madame Zeppa, with a sob.
"True; but that was in the hurry of the rising, and without orders from Rosco, as far as I know. Besides, mother, have you not often told me that God will never forsake His own children? Surely, then, He will not forsake father."
"No, oh, no! the good Lord will never forsake him. He will certainly deliver his soul from sin and death; but God sometimes sees fit to allow the bodies of His children to suffer and die. It may be so now."
"Yes, mother, but also it may not be so now. Let us take a hopeful view, and do what we can to find out--to find--to--"
Poor Orlando broke down here, laid his head on his little mother's shoulder, and wept for his mind had suddenly run itself blank. What was there to find out? what could they do? Nothing, absolutely nothing, except pray; and they did that fervently.
Then Orley went out to consult again with his friends. Alas! there was no other outlet for their grief, save prayer and consultation, for action was, in the circumstances, impossible.
"Bin t'ink, t'inkin' horroble hard all last night. Couldn' sleep a wink," said Ebony one day, some weeks after the return of Orlando, when, according to custom, he and the native missionary and his wife, with the chiefs Tomeo and Buttchee, assembled for a consultation in the palm-grove.
"What have you been thinking about?" asked Orley.
"Yous fadder, ob course."
"Of course," repeated the boy, "but what have you been thinking about him--anything new?"
"Not zackly noo," returned the negro, with a very earnest look, "but ole t'oughts turned in a noo d'rection. Sit down, Tomeo, an' I will tell you--an' try to forgit yous hat if poss'ble. It's 'xtroarnar good lookin', a'most as much good lookin' as yousself, so you got no occashin to be always t'inkin' about it."
We may remark here that both Tomeo and Buttchee understood a little of Ebony's English, though they could not speak a word. The reader will understand, therefore, that when we put words in their mouths we only give a free translation of their language. In like manner Ebony understood a little of the Ratinga tongue, but could not speak much of it, and Waroonga, who himself spoke uncommonly bad, though fluent, English, interpreted when necessary.
"Well, you mus' know," said Ebony, "dat jus before I goes to bed las' night I heat a little too much supper--"
"You doos that every night" interrupted Buttchee, with a grin.
Ebony ignored the interruption, and continued--
"So, you see, I dream berry bad--mos' drefful dreams! Yes. Well, what I dream was dis. I see Massa Zeppa forced by de pierits to walk de plank--"
"What's that?" asked Tomeo.
Waroonga looked at Ebony for an explanation, and then translated--
"When pirates want to kill people they sometimes tie up their eyes, and bind their hands, and make them walk along a