THE ABSCONDING MAN-SERVANT
Lieutenant Christopher Passford, in his two years' experience in
the navy, had been under the fire of the enemy too many times to
be intimidated by a burglar, and he felt a certain contempt for the
midnight marauder, who had entered the mansion and disturbed his restful
slumbers. He returned to his bed, therefore, and slept like a marine
till the call bell woke him in the morning.
As he dressed himself he could not help thinking of the mysterious
visitation, and he asked himself a great many questions in regard to the
object of the intruder, since it did not appear that he had entered the
house for the purpose of robbing its occupants. He could not determine
whether or not the fellow had actually come into his room; but his
porte-monnaie, which contained a considerable sum of money, and his gold
repeater, a very valuable watch, were just where he had left them the
night before.
In the breast pocket of his uniform coat he found the envelope which
contained his commission as a lieutenant, received only two days before
his orders, and some other papers. As a precaution against inquisitive
persons, if the package should happen to be mislaid in the house, he had
applied some mucilage in the library, and resealed the envelope. It had
not been tampered with so far as he could discover, and he returned it
to the pocket.
The mysterious visitor at the mansion, whoever or whatever he was, could
not be regarded as a burglar, or, if he was, he had strangely neglected
his opportunities, for he had failed to appropriate at least five
hundred dollars worth of watches and money, which he could hardly have
helped seeing. His object was not plunder, and there was nothing to
indicate the purpose of his visit. In retiring from the house the
intruder had left the front door ajar: and Christy thought it would
have been the most natural thing in the world to close it, in order to
conceal the way by which he had left the mansion. But he might have done
this to avoid the noise of shutting it, or had neglected it in his haste
to escape.
When he had completed his toilet Christy looked at his watch, and was
rather surprised to find that it was a full hour later than usual when
the call bell had been rung. He went down-stairs, and found his mother
and Florry very busy in the dining-room, setting the table. This was the
man's work, and the young officer was astonished to see his mother and
sister doing it.
"What has broken now, mother?" asked the lieutenant, glancing from one
to the other of the busy couple.
"I don't know that anything has broken," replied Mrs. Passford, with a
smile, after she had said good-morning to her son.
"You and Florry are not in the habit of setting the table, mother; and
the first bell rang an hour later than usual," added Christy.
"We were all disturbed last night, and I did not wake till the cook
knocked at my door. She told me she could not find Walsh, and breakfast
had been ready half an hour. That is the reason why everything is late
this morning," Mrs. Passford explained.
"But where is Walsh?" inquired Christy.
"I am sure I do not know. I called in the coachman, and he has been to
his room and looked all over the place without finding him."
"That is very odd," mused the officer, wondering whether this sudden
disappearance had anything to do with the principal event of the
preceding night.
"Peach says he has taken his valise with him, which indicates that he
has gone for good."
"Who is Peach?" asked Christy, who had been at home so little that he
hardly knew the names of the servants.
"He is the coachman. I am not sorry that Walsh has gone, for he has
saved me the trouble of discharging him. Wilder, who had been with us so
many years, took it into his head to enlist in the army, and I was not
willing to persuade him to shirk his duty. Walsh has not been here quite
two weeks. He said he was born in the West Indies; but he was always
prying into matters that did not concern him, and I have several times
found him standing at the door when we were talking about family
matters. I reproved him for it; but it did no good. Your father intended
to discharge him as soon as he returned from Washington."
Christy went to the library, and busied himself in considering whether
or not the sudden departure of Walsh had any connection with the
mysterious midnight intruder. The two events had been near together in
point of time; but he could establish no other relation between them.
Then it flashed upon his mind that the man-servant had been the person
who had opened or closed his door, and visited his room; but he was sure
he had seen a man near the grand entrance of the estate. He had been all
around the house, and Walsh could not have escaped his observation. He
had answered the bell, and admitted him after his search. He concluded
that the servant was not the person who had disturbed his slumbers.
The morning mail brought a letter from Captain Passford, informing the
family that he was detained in Washington, and that he could not be at
home to say good-by to his son, who was to leave that day in the store
ship Vernon. He wrote a special letter to Christy, containing not only
his adieux, but the good advice he would otherwise have given him in
person.
The breakfast was rather a sad gathering on account of this parting, for
Christy was to leave in another hour. Bertha Pembroke and her father
were quite as sad as the mother and sister, and the young officer did
his best to cheer up the family and the guests. He tried to make them
laugh, but he found it was up-hill work.
"You will be in command of a steamer, Christy, when you reach the Gulf.
I hope you will not be rash, and try to do too much," said Mrs.
Passford, as they rose from the table.
"I don't think I am ever rash, mother; and if I have been exceedingly
fortunate, it was more because the circumstances favored me than because
I ran great risks," replied Christy very seriously, for he was sensitive
on the point his mother had brought up. "Father has said a great deal to
me on this subject, and I have always done my best to carry out his
principles. It is not my fault that I have a friend at court, and have
had opportunities that have not been offered to many others. But the
tide may turn against me on my next cruise."
"I hope it will not, my son," added his mother very earnestly.
"No one knows what is going to happen, and I may spend the next year or
two in a Confederate prison. I don't think my Uncle Homer would cry his
eyes out if such should be my fate, for he has lost several vessels and
cargoes of cotton on my account," returned Christy.
"But I am sure he has no ill-will against you."
"I don't think he has."
"By the way, Christy, have you heard anything from him or his family
lately?" asked Mrs. Passford.
"Not a word, and I am not likely to hear from them. Corny Passford was
exchanged, and sent back to the South a year ago or more; and I have no
idea what has become of him since."
After breakfast Christy packed his valise, where he placed the new
uniform in which he intended to present himself on the quarter-deck of
the Bronx. The carriage was at the door to convey him to the railroad
station. The parting was not less tender than it had been on former
similar occasions, and Mrs. Passford preferred that it should be in the
house rather than at the railroad station, in the presence of curious
observers. Many tears were shed after the carriage drove off, for the
patriotic young man might find a grave in southern soil, or beneath
southern waters.
The young lieutenant choked down his emotions, and tried to think of the
future; his case was not different from that of hundreds of thousands of
others who had gone forth to fight the battles of their country, many
thousands of whom slumber in hallowed graves far away from home and
friends. As the train moved on towards the great city, he obtained the
command of his emotions, and felt a new inspiration of patriotic ardor.
On his arrival in New York he hastened across the ferry to the
navy-yard. As he approached the opposite shore, he discovered a steamer
getting under way. He had not seen the vessel on board of which he was
ordered to report as a passenger, but when he asked a deck hand what the
steamer was, he was informed that it was the Vernon. The ferry-boat had
just gone into the slip, and Christy was terribly startled to learn that
he was late. He was still two hours ahead of the time indicated in his
orders, and the Vernon was actually getting under way.
The young officer was more excited than he had ever been in the face of
the enemy, for the present looked like a case in which his honor was at
stake. He felt that it would be his ruin if the Vernon sailed without
him. There had been some mistake in his orders, or in those of the
commander of the store ship, and he was likely to be the sufferer for
it. He rushed to the stern end of the ferry-boat in order to obtain a
better view of the steamer; and at this moment he discovered a boat,
pulled by one man, headed towards the navy-yard.
"Boat, ahoy!" shouted Christy, with almost frantic earnestness.
"On board the ferry-boat!" replied the man, resting on his oars.
"Five dollars if you will put me on board of that steamer before she
gets off!" added the officer.
"I'm the one for your money," returned the oarsman, as he headed his
boat into the slip.
Without much difficulty Christy dropped his valise into the boat, and
then dropped himself in after it. The belated passenger cast an earnest
look at the Vernon, which had just begun to move, though at a snail's
pace, and he hoped he should be able to get on board of her.
"Naval officer, sir?" interrogated the boatman.
"Yes; but I have no time to spare, and you must not stop to talk,"
replied Christy rather sharply.
"Time enough, sir, if you are going on board of the Vernon, and I will
give you one of my oars if I don't put you on her deck," said the
boatman very positively. "I hope you are nimble with your feet and
hands, sir."
"I will take care of that part of the matter if you will put me
alongside the steamer," answered Christy. "No more talk, if you please,
for you are wasting your wind."
"I have plenty of it for this job. You said five dollars, I believe,
sir," added the man, looking earnestly at his passenger.
"Five dollars is just what I said," replied the lieutenant, as he took
a bill of that denomination from his porte-monnaie, rolled it around the
boat-hook, and fixed it so that it should not blow away.
"Thank you, sir," said the rower, as he pulled with more vigor even than
before, and did not say another word till the boat was alongside the
Vernon.
Christy found a rope hanging over the side, to which the boatman
attached his valise, the young officer going up the line hand over hand
as though he was used to that sort of thing. The oarsman secured his
five-dollar bill, and Christy hauled up his valise. He felt that he had
saved himself from the dishonor of failing to obey his orders, and he
looked about him for some one who would be able to explain to him how
the steamer happened to be sailing two hours before the time named in
his orders. Three or four sailors were at work in the waist, where the
lieutenant came on board; and Christy was not a little astonished to
observe that Walsh, the absconding man-servant, was one of them.