CHAPTER XXXI.

When clouds, and darkness, and the driving storm are upon us, we cannot

realize that their power is but for a time, and they must give place to

sunshine and peace. The beautiful morning that succeeded the tempestuous

night recorded in the last chapter, was a surprise indeed to those whose

trembling habitations had warned them of its terrible power.

'It has been a hard night, Peter,' said the Commodore, as he stepped

forth upon his piazza, and saw the old man busy with the eye-glass,

peering across the bright waters of the bay.

'Indeed it has, your honor, and mischief enough done; if you will cast

your eye, sir, along the south shore,' handing the glass to the

Commodore; 'your honor will see a sight. It's my opinion, sir, that the

waters have cleared themselves of everything, and thrown them all bodily

on the land.'

'Bless my soul, Peter, what a scene! I fear many lives have been

sacrificed yonder, but it must have been more terrible still outside.

What is that, Peter? a ship ashore?'

'It is a ship, I believe, your honor, but she's not ashore, sir; there

is nothing much but her starn to be seen, but being pretty well

acquainted with the bearings hereaway, you see, your honor, the land

rises considerably north of the point there, and the trees into the

bargain, make quite a bluff to look across, and she would be hid

entirely before grounding; the channel runs near the shore, your honor.

But she has had a narrow chance, sir, and I see one of her masts is by

the board.'

'It is not one of your friends, the blockaders, I hope, Peter? they must

have had a lively time of it.'

'If it had only sent them all high and dry, your honor! but I think they

must have got a good offing afore the worst on it came; and your honor

knows that wind and waves ain't apt to hurt a good ship, if there's no

land interference no way: but that ship being there is a puzzle to me,

your honor.'

'Well, Peter? let me have my letters and papers in good season this

morning.'

'Ay, ay, sir;' and Peter hobbled away towards the town, and the

Commodore entered his dwelling with a good appetite for breakfast.

He has just finished his morning repast, when Mr. Rutherford entered his

office. He met with a hearty welcome, for the two gentlemen had, since

Mr. Rutherford's removal, been on terms of intimacy, although this was

the first occasion on which any subject bordering on business matters

had been introduced. Mr. Rutherford had resolved in his own mind, during

the night past, the peculiar circumstances in which he was placed, and

the necessity for prompt and efficient action. He felt the need of

counsel, and could think of no one who would be so likely to afford it

as Commodore Trysail: for this purpose he had therefore now come.

It will not be necessary for the information of the reader to repeat the

substance of his revelation to the Commodore. It was a story, however,

which excited much interest in the mind of the old gentleman; he

listened with profound attention to the whole recital, and when it was

finished, gave his box an extra rap, and politely handing it to Mr.

Rutherford--'It is, indeed, a singular event, my dear sir; and you are

placed in a situation that requires not only very prompt, but very

cautious measures. It would be a righteous thing, no doubt, to bring

these men to justice; but the first hint they had of such an attempt

would inevitably lead to the destruction of your papers! for although

this Mr. Foster might find it a profitable business for him to hold them

thus, as a rod over his accomplice Cross, yet he would never be so mad

as to risk the discovery of them in his possession: they would be

destroyed forthwith, sir. And as to bringing them to justice, it is a

very doubtful matter, as it appears to me, whether there is evidence

sufficient to convict either of them; they are men, it seems, of some

standing in society, if I am correctly informed--none of the immediate

actors in the scene are living, or at least to be found. The young man

Brown, who is very feeble you say, can only testify to the intention of

these men; and his mother does not feel qualified to swear that the

unhappy man who made a dying avowal of his guilt in this matter had his

full reason.'

'It is all just as you say, Commodore Trysail, and the difficulties of

the case presented themselves to my mind as I see they do to yours.'

'And they are serious difficulties, Mr. Rutherford. The probabilities,

indeed, would be very much against these men, and the public generally

might be convinced that they had committed the nefarious crime; yet

after all, a jury sworn to judge according to the evidence brought

before them, might not be able to convict them.' The Commodore was

suddenly interrupted by the entrance of Peter in a state of excitement

really alarming; he did not pause as usual at the threshold, and making

a low reverence, present his packet of letters and papers, with 'the

mail, your honor,' but he bolted straight into the office, crutches and

all, threw his hat down on the floor, took his quid from his mouth, and

had liked to have dashed that down too; but his senses came to him in

season to prevent such an enormity, so he put it back again as quick as

possible. He was very much out of breath, and his eyes flashed with a

vividness very unusual. The Commodore put his box away, and

straightening himself up, looked at Peter with great astonishment, to

say the least of it.

'She's come, your honor.' Peter had great difficulty to get the sentence

out, his voice trembled so.

'What has come, sir?' The Commodore had evidently departed from his

usual temper towards Peter.

'She's come, your honor, spite of blockaders, harricanes and all, God be

praised.'

The Commodore began to catch a glimpse of his meaning.

'You do not pretend to say that the ship has come, the--the--Lady

Washington?' and the Commodore started to his feet, and looked very

fiercely at Peter.

'It's the truth, your honor, she's riding in the outer harbor: the very

same we see'd this morning. A boat has just come ashore, your honor, and

I've see'd the men, and sich doins as they tell on you never heered,

sir. Captain Sam's blowed the enemy, and he's got twenty on 'em

prisoners, and he's give 'em leg bail, and has run into port, God bless

him, with that north-easter behind him.'

After delivering himself, Peter turned round, and in two jumps was out

of the room, and stumping it off at a round rate. The Commodore was

somewhat surprised at this last movement, and stepping to the door, was

in the act of recalling his excited valet, when he saw him, in a very

animated manner, urging along a person dressed in sailor's garb, and

whom the experienced eye of the old Commodore immediately recognized as

fresh from on board ship; his rolling, unsteady gait showed very clearly

that he had not yet got his land legs on.

'Here's a shipmate, your honor,' said Peter, stepping a little in front

of his companion, 'that has a word to say to your honor, but he feels

backward like.'

'Come in, my boy, come in; are you from the Lady Washington?'

'Just from aboard, sir.'

'Come in, come in, my good fellow.' And the sailor gave a spring up the

stoop as though he was about to mount the shrouds, and taking a step

into the office, put his hand into his tarred hat, took forth a sealed

letter, and handed it to the Commodore, who immediately broke the seal

and read as follows.

'COMMODORE TRYSAIL:

'Respected Sir:--I am very happy to inform you, that through the

aid of Divine Providence, I have brought the Lady Washington into

port. To prevent her driving on the beach, I was obliged to cut

away my masts, but am busy rigging jury masts to enable us to reach

the city, as I do not feel it safe to lie in the outer harbor,

should the blockading squadron return to their cruising ground. We

have received otherwise but trifling damage. I shall do myself the

honor of waiting upon you the moment I place my ship in the hands

of your consignees.

'The bearer of this will tell you his own story. He has been a fine

fellow on board, and whatever may have been his errors in past

days, seems to have taken a new turn.

'Your obedient servant,

'S. OAKUM.'

The Commodore, having run over the letter, began to put sundry questions

to the sailor, who answered in a style that was perfectly intelligible

to the Commodore, but which would have been to ordinary listeners very

much like a foreign language. Our friend Peter was an attentive

listener. He was standing just without the door, with his head bent

over, and turned one side, so as to permit his left ear to have a chance

at what was going on. His long queue hung down over his left shoulder,

and he was pulling away at it in great earnest. Peter could stand

considerable in the way of excitement, but it is not in human nature to

stand every thing. To hear such a glowing description of the doings of

one that he loved as his own soul, given in a dialect that was

sufficient of itself to work up the mind of an old sailor; his feelings

got the better of his judgment, and no sooner was the tale over, than,

swinging his old hat, he gave three hearty cheers, and stumped it away

towards the mansion of Major Morris.

The Commodore had too much of the sailor in him to be surprised at this

outbreak of feeling. He smiled as he looked through the door, and saw

how Peter was excited, and then addressing himself to the seaman--

'Captain Oakum informs me, my good fellow, that you have something of

consequence to say to me on your own account.'

'I have, sir, if you can spare a few moments' leisure.'

The Commodore then excused himself to Mr. Rutherford, and taking the man

aside into a private apartment, 'Now, my good fellow, tell me your story

without restraint. I am an old sailor, you know, and have lost none of

my feelings for a shipmate in trouble.'

'God bless you, sir; but it is an ugly story I have to tell, and if you

can have patience to hear me out, you may do with the information what

you please.'

Ha then began and gave a short-hand account of his career; that he was

born and brought up in a place called Barrens, near by--that he had

gotten into bad company, and in the employ of a bad man--that at the

instigation of this man, he had been guilty of many improper acts, but

that one of these, and the last one in which he had taken a part, had

stuck in his heart like a dagger from the moment he did it--that he and

his companion, in order to escape punishment in case the crime was found

out, and to get away from the man who had exerted his power over them

for such shameful purposes, had shipped to sea--that his messmate had

taken sick and died, and that his last hours were full of misery on

account of what he had done.

'I have therefore, sir, made a clean breast of it all to Captain Oakum,

and I am on my way to see the man I once injured so much; but Captain

Oakum thought how as you, sir, could tell me what was best to do, and

that I might let you know, sir, just the whole on it.'

'But you haven't told me, yet, my man, what this crime you speak of was.

You have not murdered any one, surely?'

'God only knows, sir; but we fired a house while they were all asleep;

the man who hired us to do it wanted a tin trunk which stood in one of

the back rooms. We waited round to have folks give the alarm, but it got

well a-burning before any one see it. An old nigger then came and broke

the door open with an axe: the house was filled with fire and smoke. The

old black fellow--God bless him for a true heart as ever beat in a human

body,--went right through the flames, up the stairs, calling as loud as

his voice could scream, "Oh my missus and the children!" We hurried into

the back room, and feeling about found the trunk, but we had like to

have smothered afore we got out; but that old fellow's cry, sir, has

rung in my head louder than the loudest noise that the wind and the

waves have made, since I have been on the ocean. And, sir, I can't live

with it any longer.'

'Did you ever see the man whose house you fired?'

'No, sir, nor do I now remember his name; but he had a character, sir,

for being a fine man, far and near.'

'The person's name is Rutherford, and he is now sitting in my office;

the very gentleman you saw there.'

'The Lord forgive me! may I not see him, sir, just to ask his pardon,

and then let him do with me what he thinks best?'

'You shall see him; but first answer me:--Are you willing to go with me,

and meet face to face this man Cross, whom you say instigated this act?'

'I will, sir; only I hope I may be restrained from doing him an injury,

for there is that in me, when I think of the villain, that wouldn't mind

putting his daylight out, and trampling him in the dust.'

'That would do no good now, you know; it wouldn't rebuild the house, nor

ease your conscience, nor reform the man. But I am this morning

endeavoring to devise a plan with this gentleman, Mr. Rutherford, for

the recovery of this very trunk you have been speaking about. It seems

that, after all, it never went into the hands of Mr. Cross, but, by some

strange accident, fell into possession of as great a villain as he was,

one Michael Foster, who keeps it as a rod over Cross to force money from

him. Your presence may be of great consequence. Can your Captain spare

you?'

'He has let me ashore for this very business, sir. He thought may be I

might be of some use to this Mr. Rutherford; and if I can, God knows I

wouldn't value my own life a feather, sir.'

The Commodore told the man to be seated, and stepping into the office,

communicated to Mr. Rutherford the particulars he had just been made

acquainted with.

'This is a most unexpected turn to affairs, Mr. Rutherford; and I think

I can see a way now by which we can get hold of these papers, and get

rid of these villains at the same time, if you will leave matters to my

management.'

'I will, certainly, sir, and feel deeply--'

'Say nothing about that, if you please. I will call for you in about an

hour with my carriage. But first will you see this poor fellow, and set

him at rest if you can?'

So saying, he led Mr. Rutherford into the adjoining room. The man was

still seated, but was evidently in much agitation, for his countenance

wore a death-like expression, and he trembled violently.

'Did you wish to speak with me?' said Mr. Rutherford, stepping up to

him; 'you seem to be ill.'

'My body is well enough, sir; although I can't tell why it is in such an

ague now. I never trembled before through all the dangers I have been

in; but my mind is in a sad case, sir;--you see before you one of the

men who burnt your beautiful house;'--and the rough sailor burst into

tears.

'Do you truly regret having thus injured one who never did you any

harm?'

'God knows I do; but tell me one thing, sir, was any of your family--'

'Burned with the dwelling, you were going to say; no, thank God and the

faithfulness of my good old negro, they were not injured.'

'Thank God it is so, sir! and oh that my old messmate could have known

this before he left the world!--he died, sir, howling like a raving

man--"that he was a murderer!"'

The Commodore now took Mr. Rutherford aside, and making some further

arrangements for the accomplishment of his plan, the latter gentleman

departed, and Commodore Trysail ordered his carriage to be in immediate

readiness.

In about two hours after this interview everything had been completed,

and the party selected for the occasion was entering the barrens, and

Joe, the Commodore's coachman, was urging on his horses at a very

unusual speed, and one which the heavy fat beasts did not seem to

relish.

It consisted of Commodore Trysail, Mr. Rutherford, James Montjoy and the

sailor. The carriage stopped at the Widow Brown's, and some time was

spent in a very particular conversation with the Widow and her son, and

then off again to the north at the same rapid rate.

'Hold up a little, Joe, before you reach the tavern; and you may stop at

Cross's, and let them blow awhile. It will not be best for us to appear

to be in haste.' This latter sentence was intended by the Commodore for

the company seated with him.

As the carriage drove up to the long low tavern, the Commodore and James

Montjoy alighted; and as they stepped upon the piazza, Mr. Cross met

them with a polite bow, and welcomed them to his premises.

Mr. Cross had, for a long time, been anxious to get into the good graces

of both of them; for when he found that he could not destroy the young

firm, he was desirous of their good-will, that he might the better make

sales through them of his wood and timber; and the Commodore being so

distinguished a personage, that a nod from him in any public place would

be no small consideration for a man of Mr. Cross's standing.

Chairs and benches were immediately presented for their acceptance, but

as politely declined.

'Mr. Montjoy and I have a little matter of business to talk with you

about this morning, Mr. Cross, and would wish to see you in private.'

'By all means, gentlemen,' and the little fat man led them into a small

back room, and carrying chairs with him, even against the protest of his

visitors, placed them with much care, as to position and then closed the

door.

'Since you have taken the trouble, Mr. Cross, to bring us seats, I

suppose we may as well use them,' said the Commodore, taking up his

chair, and placing it as if by accident near the door. Cross saw the

movement, and from the sudden flush that deepened the purple hue of his

face, appeared to feel that, at least, it was a singular one. He however

took the stool which he had brought for himself, and placing it at a

respectful distance, sat down in a composed manner, tilting it back so

as to balance himself on two of its legs, and resting his hands one on

each of his knees, as they were spread out, the better to maintain his

position.

'Mr. Cross,' said the Commodore, 'when we have business on hand, the

fewer words by way of introduction the better. I have a serious charge

to make against you this morning, and therefore it is that I have chosen

to see you alone.'

Cross immediately dropped his stool on its four legs, and straightening

up to make the most of himself: 'If we are to be alone, sir, why have

you brought company with you?' looking significantly at young Montjoy.

'To set your mind at rest on that head, Mr. Cross, I will tell you that

Mr. Montjoy has, at my request, been deputized by the Sheriff, and acts

at present as an officer.'

Cross did not turn pale, for that could not well be, but his countenance

assumed a livid hue, and he immediately rose to his feet.

'You may as well be seated, Mr. Cross; this business has been committed

to me, and it must go forward, sir; but I have no disposition to treat

you with harshness--sit down, Mr. Cross.'

Mr. Cross sat down; there was something in the decided tones of the

Commodore's voice that carried with them the idea of implicit obedience.

'Without alluding to the serious crime which I have it in my power to

substantiate against you, I at once propose to you, Mr. Cross, that if

you deliver up to me the papers which were taken from Mr. Rutherford's

house by the men employed by you for that purpose, and at the same time

make a quit-claim to your son David of all your real estate, you may

then have twenty-four hours to make what other arrangements you please

in this vicinity, and nothing shall be revealed until the expiration of

that time; otherwise I shall immediately have you arrested for robbery

and arson. I give you ten minutes in which to make your choice.'

'It is a false charge, sir; the whole of it is a falsehood, started by

that old idiot the Widow Brown and her son; and I intend they shall

smart well for it--that they shall, sir.'

The Commodore then gave a signal to James Montjoy, who left the room,

and turning himself to Mr. Cross: 'It is a solemn thing for you, sir, to

violate the precepts of the Almighty, for sooner or later, the hour of

just retribution overtakes the delinquent. I am not sitting in judgment

over you, Mr. Cross; but I cannot shut my eyes against the marked tokens

of an overruling Providence, that have been exhibited in bringing to

light what you supposed was beyond the reach of detection.'

At that moment the door opened, and Mr. Rutherford, followed by James

Montjoy and the sailor, entered the room. Cross looked at them with

intense anxiety until his eye fell on the latter; he started as though

pierced by a ball, and then stood transfixed with amazement, until

gradually he settled down into his seat, and stared wildly on the floor.

'Your ten minutes has about expired, Mr. Cross; what do you decide?'

'I am at your mercy, gentlemen, do what you think proper. As to the

papers, they are not in my hands, nor ever have been.'

'We know that, Mr. Cross; but as you were intending to take possession

of them this evening, you cannot be very ignorant where they are to be

found.'

'Who told you that?'

'It is sufficient, sir, that we know the fact. As I have just said to

you, the searching eye of the Almighty has been upon you through all the

windings of your crooked way, and has brought out all your sin. The

wretched beings who have been dependent upon you as hirelings, and whom

you have ground to the dust, and trained for your wicked purposes; the

woman who has been in reality your lawful wife, although not known nor

acknowledged by you as such, the mother of your only child, yet treated

by you as the off-scouring of the earth; the son who, by your

instigation, had like to have been the ruin of a lovely girl--all are

ready to testify against you. Under such circumstances, Mr. Cross, the

mercy offered you is very tender in contrast with your iniquity.'

Cross was now indeed sensible that his hour of trial had come: large

drops of sweat stood upon his forehead, and he trembled like a reed in

the tempest.

'Michael Foster has the papers in his possession; but you must take him

by surprise and watch him close, for if he suspects what you want, they

will be destroyed before you can help yourselves.'

'He is a justice of the peace, I understand, Mr. Cross.'

'Yes.'

'You will please go with us, then, sir; you can execute the deed there,

which you know was one of the terms I stated to you. You have one made

out, have you not, Mr. Rutherford?'

'I have, sir.'

The Commodore, without further remark, signified his wish to be on the

way: and soon Mr. Cross was seated on an easy cushion in a fine

carriage, and with such company as he never had the honor of riding with

before; but I presume it was a matter of secret rejoicing with him that

the journey would be a short one--the soft seat and the good company

were thorns and fire to him.

Commodore Trysail alone left the carriage, and as Mr. Foster opened his

door, entered without waiting for any ceremony.

'Mr. Foster, I presume, sir?'

'At your service, sir,' making a low bow to the Commodore.

'You are a justice of the peace?'

'I am, sir.'

'Gentlemen,' said the Commodore--calling to those in the carriage--'the

Esquire is at home, you can come in.'

Mr. Foster began to be much surprised, not only at the peculiar manner

of his visitor in his own abrupt entrance, but at calling, without

leave, a coach-load of folks to follow: his looks however manifested

something more than surprise, when he found himself honoured with the

presence of those who now entered his apartment.

'Mr. Rutherford, that deed, if you please.' The tones of the Commodore's

voice assumed a harshness very unusual with him of late years; his keen

eye had penetrated into the character of the man he had now to deal

with. 'Mr. Cross wishes you, sir,' addressing Foster, 'to witness his

signature, and take an acknowledgment of his free act and deed.'

Foster bowed again, and without reply handed the pen and ink to neighbor

Cross. He then sat down and wrote very rapidly, although it was

impossible for him to conceal the agitation which his nerves suffered.

'And now, Mr. Foster,' said the Commodore, 'this matter being through

with, and Mr. Cross's business settled, your turn comes next.' Foster's

jaws, as we have seen, were rather long and flabby at best; but as he

dropped his chin and drew up his eyebrows in the surprise that came over

him as the Commodore turned upon him his keen, searching eye, he made up

altogether an expression rather wo-begone. 'You have had in your

possession for some time, Mr. Foster, a small trunk of papers, of but

little value to yourself, except as you have held them for the especial

benefit of your friend, Mr. Cross, here; but as he has wisely chosen to

give up doing business in these parts, they can be of no further use

either to him or to you; and as we have abundant proof of the guilt and

villany of you both, we shall therefore give you an equal chance,

provided you immediately surrender those papers. Twenty-four hours, sir,

you may have in order to settle up your business in this region; if,

after the expiration of that time, you are seen in this vicinity, I

pledge you my word, which has never been broken yet, that you shall be

arrested as an accomplice in the crimes of robbery and arson.'

Foster cast his eye at the downcast countenance of Cross, and read too

plainly in that the sad situation in which their affairs were placed.

Evasion would do nothing for his benefit in this case; he therefore,

without making the least reply, walked to a closet which opened into the

side of the large chimney, unlocked it, and began taking out sundry old

boxes, bottles, paper bundles, etc.; these he placed upon the floor,

until the whole cupboard was emptied. He then deliberately took from his

pocket another key, and applying it to the back of his cupboard, opened

another door there; and thrusting his long arm into the hole, brought

forth the long-lost trunk.

'What consummate villany!' exclaimed Mr. Rutherford, as he at once took

possession of his property.

'Open it at once, sir,' said the Commodore, 'and see that every thing is

right; for if but one paper is missing, they shall both swing for it

yet.'

But the papers were all correct, and both Foster and Cross felt in no

small degree relieved, even with the conditions then laid upon them,

when the party which had thus made each of them such an unexpected

visit, was again riding away. And here we may willingly, both for

ourselves and our readers, take leave of these two characters: they

suddenly disappeared--no one, excepting those in the secret,

understanding why; they have been blots upon the scene of our story, and

we bid adieu to them with pleasure.

I've Been Thinking; or, the Secret of Success · 第 31 / 33 章