As yet the night was intensely dark, and its gloom did not tend to improve their spirits; also, as Otter had predicted, the wind was rising and soughed through the reeds and willows in melancholy notes.
So the time passed till it was nine o'clock.
"We must move down to the landing–place," said Leonard; "there will soon be some light, enough for us to work by."
Then Otter took the lead and slowly, step by step, they crept back to the road and followed it down the shore of the canal opposite the water–gate. Here was a place where boats and canoes were tied, both for convenience in crossing the canal to and from the camp and for the use of the slave–dealers when they passed to the secret harbour six miles away, where the dhows embarked their cargoes.
They waited awhile. From the Nest came the sound of revelry, and from the slave camp there rose other sounds, the voice of groaning broken by an occasional wail wrung out of the misery of some lost creature who lay there in torment. Gradually the sky brightened a little.
"Perhaps we had better be making a start," said Leonard; "there is a canoe which will serve our turn."
Before the words were out of his mouth they heard the splash of oars, and a boat crept past them and made fast to the water–gate twenty yards away.
"Who goes there?" came the challenge of the sentry in Portuguese. "Speak quick or I fire."
"Don't be in such a hurry with your rifle, fool," answered a coarse voice. "The very best of friends goes here. An honest trader called Xavier who comes from his plantation on the coast to tell you all good news."
"Pardon, senor," said the sentry, "but how was a man to see in the dark, big as you are? What is the news then? Are the dhows in sight?"
"Come down and help us to tie up this cursed boat and I will tell you. You know where the post is, and we can't find it."
The sentry obeyed with alacrity, and the man called Xavier went on: "Yes, the dhows are in sight, but I don't think that they will get in to–night because of this wind, so you may look for a busy day to–morrow loading up the blackbirds. One is in by the way—a small one from Madagascar. The captain is a stranger, a big Frenchman named Pierre, or he may be an Englishman for anything I know. I hailed him and found that he is all right, but I didn't see him. However, I sent him a note to tell him that there was fun on here to–night, which was generous of me, as he may be a rival bidder."
"Is he coming, senor? I ask because, if so, I must look out for him."
"I don't know: he answered that he would if he could. But how is the English girl? She is to be put up to–night, isn't she?"
"Oh, yes, senor, there will be a great to–do at twelve, when the moon is high. So soon as she has been bought, the priest Francisco is to marry her to the lucky man, there and then. The old fellow insists on it; he has grown superstitious about the girl and says that she shall be properly married."
Xavier laughed aloud, "Has he now? He is getting into his dotage. Well, what does it matter? We have a good law of divorce in these parts, friend. I am going in for that girl; if I give a hundred ounces for her I will buy her, and I have brought the gold with me."
"A hundred ounces for one girl! It is a large sum, senor, but you are rich. Not like us poor devils who get all the risk and little profit."
By this time the men had finished tying up the boat and taking some baggage or provisions out of her, Leonard could not see which. Then Xavier and the sentry went up the steps together, followed by the two boatmen, and the gates were shut behind them.
"Well," whispered Leonard, "we have learnt something at any rate. Now, Otter, I am Pierre the French slave–trader from Madagascar, and, understand, you are my servant; as for Soa, she is the guide, or interpreter, or anyone you like. We must pass the gates, but the real Pierre must never pass them. There must be no sentry to let him in. Do you think that you can manage it, Otter, or must I?"
"It comes into my head, Baas, that we may learn a lesson from this Xavier. I might forget something in the canoe, and the sentry might help me to find it after you have passed the gates. For the rest I am quick and strong and silent."
"Quick and strong and silent you must be. A noise, and all is lost."
Then they crept to the canoe which they had selected and loosened her. They embarked and Otter took the paddle. First he let her float gently down stream and under cover of the shore for a distance of about fifty yards. Then he put about and the play began.
"Now, you fool, where are you paddling to?" said Leonard in a loud voice to Otter, speaking in the bastard Arabic which passes current for a language on this coast. "You will have us into the bank, I tell you. Curse this wind and the darkness! Steady now, you ugly black dog; those must be the gates the letter told of—are they not, woman? Hold on with the boat–hook, can't you?"
A wicket at the gate above rattled and the voice of the sentry challenged them.
"A friend—a friend!" answered Leonard in Portuguese; "one who is a stranger and would pay his respects to your leader, Dom Antonio Pereira, with a view to business."
"What is your name?" asked the guard suspiciously.
"Pierre is my name. Dog is the name of the dwarf my servant, and as for the old woman, you can call her anything you like."
"The password," said the sentry; "none come in here without the word."
"The word—Ah! what did the Dom Xavier say it was in his letter? 'Fiend!' No, I have it, 'Devil' is the word."
"Where do you hail from?"
"From Madagascar, where the goods you have to supply are in some demand just now. Come, let us in; we don't want to sit here all night and miss the fun."
The man began to unbar the door, and stopped, struck by a fresh doubt.
"You are not of our people," he said; "you speak Portuguese like a cursed Englishman."
"No, I should hope not; I am a 'cursed Englishman,' that is half—son of an English lord and a French creole, born in the Mauritius at your service, and let me ask you to be a little more civil, for cross–bred dogs are fierce."
Now at length the sentry opened one side of the gate, grumbling, and Leonard swaggered up the steps followed by the other two. Already they were through it, when suddenly he turned and struck Otter in the face.
"Why, Dog," he said angrily, "you have forgotten to bring up the keg of brandy, my little present for the Dom. Go and fetch it. Quick, now."
"Pardon, Chief," answered Otter, "but I am a small man and the keg is heavy for me alone—if you will deign to help me, for the old woman is too weak."
"Do you take me for a porter that I should roll kegs of cognac up steps? Here, my friend," he went on addressing the sentry, "if you wish to earn a little present and a drink, perhaps you will give this fellow a hand with the cask. There is a spigot in it, and you can try the quality afterwards."
"Right, Senor," said the man briskly, and led the way down the steps.
A look of dreadful intelligence passed between the dwarf and his master. Then Otter followed, his hand upon the hilt of the Arab sabre which he wore, while Leonard and Soa waited above. They heard the man's heavily booted feet going down the steps followed by Otter's naked footfall.
"Where is your keg? I don't see it," said the sentry presently.
"Lean over, senor, lean over," answered Otter; "it is in the stern of the canoe. Let me help you."
There was a moment's pause, to the listeners it seemed hours. Then came the sound of a blow and a heavy splash. They hearkened on, but nothing more was to be heard except the beating of their hearts and the distant noise of revelry from the camp.
Three seconds passed and Otter stood beside them. In the dim light Leonard could see that his eyes stared wide and his nostrils twitched.