As cannons shoot the higher pitches
The lower we let down their breeches,
I'll make this low, dejected fate
Advance me to a greater height.
HUDIBRAS.
Captain Williams, immediately upon his landing on the morning after the
events related in the last chapter had taken place, was met at the Port
by a woman of rather ordinary appearance, who put a letter into his
hands, and retired without speaking. The letter was written in a woman's
hand, but without signature, and was as follows:
"SIR:--A friend of Mr. Morton is making every possible exertion to
deliver him and his companions from imprisonment. That friend
entreats that you would do nothing rashly, or that may give cause
of alarm or suspicion to the governor or garrison, or to any of the
inhabitants. If you will call this evening at the shop of dame
Juanita Gomez, in the plaza of San Blas, a person will meet you
there, and explain more fully the friendly intentions of the
writer."
The honest seaman, after mature deliberation, came to the conclusion
that the writer of this anonymous epistle could be no other than the
fair Isabella, of whom he had heard Morton speak so often; and he
resolved to attend to its directions most strictly. Accordingly, as a
preliminary step, he thought best to reconnoitre the plaza as soon as
possible, that he might make no unpleasant mistakes in the dusk of
evening.
While at St. Blas, he had another interview with the governor, and
endeavored to ascertain the intentions of that dignitary with regard to
the destination of his prisoners. The governor, however, seemed to
regard that as a state secret, and declined making any but a very
evasive answer. As some amends for his severity, he condescended to give
Captain Williams full permission to visit the prisoners, of which the
veteran immediately availed himself. The kind-hearted old seaman was
deeply affected, as he held Morton in his arms with all the affection of
a fond father--
"That ever I should live to see my old school-fellow Jonathan Morton's
son in such a situation, and not be able to help him,"--were the first
words he was able to articulate. Morton endeavored to calm him, by
repeated assurances that he felt no apprehension; that he had no doubt
that a certain friend was busy in projecting a plan for their
deliverance. It was some time before he was sufficiently composed to
converse.
"Have you tried the old Don with a few doubloons?" asked Morton.
"No, d--n him, I never thought of that; I can't get a word of common
sense or common civility out of the old mule."
"I believe if he had taken the boat-load of goods when he took us, that
he would have been more willing to listen to you."
"Ah, very like; the old fox missed the goose, and he is venting his
malice upon you in stead. But, my dear boy, I don't exactly know how to
go to work to offer a bribe. Damme, I could land thirty men this blessed
night, and pull this old rookery down, and get you all out that way; but
as for bribery, it is a devilish dirty piece of business, to make the
best of it; besides, I tell you, I don't know how; if I did, I would try
it, as dirty as I think it."
Morton, could not forbear smiling at the old man's unwillingness to
employ a piece of machinery, at the present day so indispensable in our
government throughout all its branches; he assured him that nothing was
more simple; it was only to wait upon the Don in private, and request
his acceptance of either cash or certain valuable merchandize, that
would be attractive in the sight of the governor. "There are my
silver-mounted pistols, and curious East India dagger, and my rifle,
that all might be thrown out as baits to begin with;"--it was all in
vain; the blunt old seaman still persisted that bribery, or any thing
that approximated it, was but a dirty affair after all; and that,
although he would leave no plan untried to effect the liberation of the
prisoners, there was a moral contamination attached to the mode proposed
that he neither could nor would submit to.
True to his appointment, Captain Williams, soon after sunset, repaired
to dame Juanita's shop, with the location of which he had previously
made himself acquainted. He was introduced by that worthy old lady into
her back parlor, if a little apartment ten feet square, with a clay
floor and no windows, deserves so dignified, or rather so _comfortable_
a title; and in half an hour a female, closely veiled, entered the room.
Notwithstanding her disguise, the old seaman had tact enough to perceive
that his companion was young and graceful, or in more modern language,
genteel, while the silvery music of her voice, as she addressed him,
convinced him that she could be no otherwise than beautiful.
"Are you," said the lady, in a hesitating, tremulous voice, "are you the
commander of the American ship in the bay?"
"I am; and you, senorita, are the lady who wrote me the note that I
received this morning?"
"Yes, I--that is, I sent you a note requesting to see you."
"And you are the generous, devoted, and true friend that takes such a
lively interest in the fate of my friend and officer, and his companions
in prison and misfortune?"
"I am--I am," replied the lady hurriedly.
"And you are, in short," continued the commander, rising and
respectfully offering his hand, "you are the lady Isabella de Luna?"
"I cannot deny it," said she in a faint voice.
"Then, madam, you see before you one who is acquainted with your story.
Nay, never hang your head for shame; Charles Morton is worth any woman's
love. I am here ready with hand, heart, and head, to second any and
every plan that you may propose, to effect his escape."
The lady remained silent for a few moments, then placing her small hand
in the broad, hard palm of the old seaman, replied, "I know that I can
put the most implicit confidence in you. I have heard from others--why
should I deny it? Mr. Morton has told me often, that, next to his
father, he regards you with affection and esteem as his dearest and
truest friend."
"And he shall never be deceived in old Israel Williams, I can tell him
that, nor shall you, my dear young lady."
"I have but little time to spare," said the young lady, with increasing
trepidation, "and my communication must be brief, as my plan is simple.
To-morrow night, at ten o'clock, Captain Williams, let your swiftest
boat be at the place where Mr. Morton and his companions were taken, and
let her wait there until day-break. It may not be in my power to effect
my object to-morrow night; but let not one nor two disappointments deter
you from repeating the experiment. In the mean time, be on shore
to-morrow as though nothing was in agitation; avoid exciting any
suspicions by either words, looks, or actions; and be assured, that, if
the plan for the rescue of the prisoners fails, it must be from some
accident that can neither be foreseen nor prevented."
The commander of the Albatross having promised to follow all these
directions to the letter, they separated; he to return to his ship with
a joyful heart, and Isabella to reconnoitre the prison previous to
retiring to her uncle's house.
She passed the guard-house at a slow pace and at such distance as to
avoid observation, but sufficiently near to ascertain that all the
guard, four in number besides the corporal, were wrapped up in their
cloaks and stretched out sound asleep upon the stone floor of the
guard-room, which was lighted by a large clumsy lamp sufficiently to
allow her to see its interior. The sentry at the door, who was slowly
pacing backwards and forwards with a paper segar in his mouth, was the
only one awake.
As she bent her steps homeward, she perceived some one approaching her,
in the very direction that she was going, with an uncertain, faltering
footstep that denoted considerable intoxication. To avoid him she turned
to the right with the purpose of making a circuit; but, before she had
gone ten yards with that intention, she perceived that the stranger had
quickened his pace and changed his direction, coming directly towards
her. Exceedingly alarmed, she turned short round and ran, and in a
moment perceived that her pursuer was likewise running, and rapidly
gaining upon her. Fear lent her speed, and with the swiftness of a
hunted deer she flew across the plaza towards an open space, terminated
at its further extremity by the precipitous cliff that the town is built
upon, and which we have mentioned more than once. Her intention was to
turn quickly round the corner of a house that stood within four feet of
the edge of the cliff, and gain another street; or, if there were no
other means of escape, to take refuge in the house of a poor widow, one
of her pensioners, and obtain a guide and protector to her uncle's
house.
Her pursuer was no other than her self-constituted lover, Don Gregorio.
He had dined that day with a party of officers, and had dipped rather
deeper into the bottle than, to tell the truth, he was often guilty of
doing. He suspected that Isabella was in the habit of visiting the
prison; but as she was generally accompanied, in all her rambles, by one
or both her cousins, he had thought nothing more of the circumstance.
But now he was convinced that she was just returning from, or going to,
a nocturnal appointment with the prisoner Morton, who had always been an
object of his hatred, and in an instant his jealousy was in full
operation.
The cliff, towards which he was now approaching, was undefended by wall,
fence, or barrier of any kind. My readers have doubtless seen something
similar in their lives; that is, a nuisance that has acquired such a
venerable character from its antiquity, that it seems a species of
sacrilege, a sort of violation of municipal privileges, to remove or
repair it. Such, for instance, in city or country, is a gap in the
street or road, large enough to swallow a brace of elephants at once:
the inhabitants become acquainted with its localities; and, wisely
considering that, as it is _every_ body's business, of course it is
_no_ body's business, to repair it, leave it "open for the inspection of
the public" for a twelvemonth at least; and if any unfortunate stranger
tumbles in and breaks his neck, on a dark night, it is ten chances to
one that the jury of inquest return for a verdict, that "the deceased
came to his death in consequence of intoxication," although he may be
the most abstemious water-drinker that ever the sun shone upon. Such
was, ten or eleven years ago, to my certain knowledge, the cliff of San
Blas.
Maddened with jealousy, and rendered incapable of commanding his
movements by intoxication, the unhappy Don Gregorio was whirled, by the
impetuosity of his own motion, far over the brow of the hideous
precipice. One dismal yell of mortal agony broke the stillness of night,
and the next moment his body was heard far below, crashing among the
bushes and loose stones at the foot of the cliff. Fainting with horror
at the dreadful sight, though ignorant of the person of the victim,
Isabella sank upon the ground, and it was some minutes before she
recovered sufficiently to rise. When, at length, she was somewhat
restored, she turned towards her uncle's house with feeble steps and
slow, frequently stopping to lean against the walls of the houses; she
tottered into the room where the family were assembled, and sank
senseless upon the floor. Her relatives, exceedingly terrified,
administered restoratives, and conveyed her to her own chamber, where,
when she was somewhat composed, she informed her anxious friends that
she had been pursued by an intoxicated person, and was extremely
terrified, and begged to be left to her repose, which she assured them
was all she required. Having obtained all the information they were
likely to, her kind and inquisitive cousins left her, after compelling
her to swallow a composing medicine. She awoke in the morning perfectly
refreshed; the horrid scene that she had witnessed the night before
seeming rather like a terrifying dream than a mournful reality.
Before she left her chamber, a man, with his jaws standing ajar with
horror, called upon the governor, and requested to speak with him in
private. He then informed his excellency, that as he was rambling
through the woods at the foot of the precipice, he had found the dead
body of an officer, who had evidently fallen from the cliff above; that
it was so frightfully mangled by the fall, that no vestiges of humanity
were recognizable in the countenance, or in the body; but that, from
the peculiar fashion of the regimentals, he was almost sure that it was
his excellency's aid-du-camp, Don Gregorio Nunez. Alarmed by this
intelligence, the governor despatched a servant to that officer's
quarters, who soon returned with the intelligence that he had not been
there since the morning of the preceding day. Further inquiry among his
brother officers informed him that he had left their company the evening
before about ten o'clock: that he had been drinking freely, rather more
freely than usual; and that they had not seen him since.
Having commanded the attendance of two or three officers and as many
soldiers, the commandante proceeded to the spot, guided by his first
informant, and was convinced, as soon as he saw the crushed and
mutilated mass, that it was no other than his unhappy officer. Having
given orders for transporting the body to town, he returned to his
family, who, although aware, from his abstracted and pensive manner,
that something had happened to discompose him, forbore to ask any
questions--a line of conduct which, by the way, we would most earnestly
recommend to all wives and daughters. Isabella's mind was too much
occupied with her own thoughts to notice the silence and melancholy of
her uncle; she ate nothing, but her aunt and cousins attributed her want
of appetite to the fright of the preceding evening; as her eyes met
their kind and anxious looks, and she thought of her determination to
quit them forever, she could not restrain her tears; but rising hastily
from the table, she took shelter from observation and questioning in her
own chamber.