into an attempt at escape, and bring down upon them a shot. Bart’s voice trembled and sounded hoarsely as he said playfully —
“Now, Abel, my lad, I’m going to talk to that there poll parrot.”
“Hush!” whispered Abel, agitatedly. “Keep on quietly with your work till we get close, and then call softly.”
“Oh, it’s all straight, lad,” whispered back Bart, chopping away and breaking clods, as his fetters clanked more loudly than ever. “Now, then, Polly! Pretty Polly, are you there?”
“Yes, yes, Bart. Abel, dear brother, at last, at last!” came from the jungle.
“Mary – Polly, my girl!” cried Abel, hoarsely, as he threw down his hoe; and he was running toward the jungle, where a crashing sound was heard, when Bart flung his strong arms across his chest and dashed him to the ground.
“Are you mad!” he cried. “Mary, for God’s sake keep back!”
The warning was needed, for from across the plantation the overseer and a couple of soldiers came running, every movement on the part of the prisoners being watched.
“Sham ill, lad; sham ill,” whispered Bart, as a piteous sigh came from the depths of the jungle.
“Now, then, you two. Fighting again!” roared the overseer, as he came panting up.
“Fighting, sir!” growled Bart; “rum fighting. He nearly went down.”
“He was trying to escape.”
“Escape!” growled Bart. “Look at him. Sun’s hot.”
The overseer bent down over Abel, whose aspect helped the illusion, for he looked ghastly from his emotion; and he had presence of mind enough to open his eyes, look about, wildly from face to face, and then begin to struggle up, with one hand to his head.
“Is it the fayver, sor?” said one of the soldiers.
“No. Touch of the sun,” said the overseer. “They’re always getting it. There, you’re all right, ar’n’t you?”
“Yes, sir,” said Abel, slowly, as he picked up his hoe.
“Sit down under the trees there for a few minutes,” said the overseer. “Lend him your water bottle, soldier. And you stop with him till he’s hotter. I’ll come back soon.”
This last was to Bart, playing, as it were, into the prisoners’ hands, for Bart took the water bottle; and as the overseer went off with his guard, Abel was assisted to the edge of the jungle where a huge cotton-tree threw its shade; and here Bart placed him on an old stump, trembling the while, as he held the water to his companion’s lips.
It was hard work to keep still while the others went out of hearing; but at last it seemed safe, and Abel panted out —
“Mary, dear, are you there?”
“Yes, yes, Abel. Oh, my dear brother, say one kind word to me!”
“Kind word? Oh, my lass, my lass, say that you forgive me!”
“Forgive you? Yes. But quick, dear, before those men come back.”
“Tell me, then,” said Abel, speaking with his back to the jungle, and his head bent down as if ill, while Bart leaned over him, trembling like a leaf, “tell me how you came to be here.”
“I came over in a ship to Kingston. Then I went to New Orleans. Then to Honduras. And it was only a fortnight ago that I found you.”
“But how did you come here?”
“I’ve got a small boat, dear. I asked and asked for months before I could find out where you were. I’ve been to other plantations, and people have thought me mad; but one day I stumbled across the sailors of a ship that comes here with stores from the station, and I heard them say that there were a number of prisoners working at this place; and at last, after waiting and watching for weeks and weeks, I caught sight of you two, and then it was a month before I could speak to you as I did the other day.”
“And now you have come,” said Abel, bitterly, “I can’t even look at you.”
“But you will escape, dear,” said Mary.
“Escape!” cried Abel, excitedly.
“Steady, lad, steady. ’Member you’re ill,” growled Bart, glancing toward the nearest sentry, and then holding up the bottle as if to see how much was within.
“Yes, escape,” said Mary. “I have the boat ready. Can you come now?”
“Impossible! We should be overtaken and shot before we had gone a mile.”
“But you must escape,” said Mary. “You must get down here by night.”
“How?” said Bart, gruffly.
“You two must settle that,” said Mary, quickly. “I am only a woman; but I have found means to get here with a boat, and I can come again and again till you join me.”
“Yes,” said Abel, decidedly; “we will contrive that.”
“But is it safe, lass, where you are?”
“What do you mean?”
“They telled us there was the crocodiles all along that creek, and sharks out beyond, if we tried to run.”
“Yes,” said Mary, calmly, “there are plenty of these creatures about.”
“Listen,” said Abel, quickly, and speaking as decidedly now as his sister. “Can you get here night after night?”
“Yes,” said Mary. “I have been here every night since I spoke to you last.”
“Then keep on coming.”
“Yes,” said Mary; “I will till you escape.”
“You have the boat?”
“Yes.”
“And provisions?”
“Yes; a little.”
“But how do you manage?”
“I am fishing if any one sees me; but it is very lonely here. I see nothing but the birds,” she added to herself, “and sharks and alligators;” and as she said this she smiled sadly.
“Be careful, then,” said Abel. “Bart, old lad, we will escape.”
There was a loud expiration of the breath from the jungle, and Abel continued —
“I must get up and go on work, or they will be back. Mary, once more, you have a boat?”
“Yes.”
“And can come up here and wait?”
“Yes.”
Quick, short, decided answers each time.
“Then be cautious. Only
