TWO MODES OF WRITING ROMANCES--MORE OF THE UP-TOWN MYSTERY--A WATCH, AN
ESCAPE, AND A POLICE POST-MORTEM ON A VACANT HOUSE.
The question may have been asked, before this point in narration, by
some of those who have been induced to follow the progress of this
story--What has become of some of the prominent characters first
introduced, Dexter Ralston, the stalwart Virginian, and the girl Kate,
who seemed at that time to be so closely identified with the movements
of the "red woman." The curiosity is a natural one, whether there really
was such a secret of disloyalty, hidden away either in the house on
Prince Street or that on East 5--, as justified Tom Leslie and Walter
Harding in their long ride at midnight and their subsequent interview
with Police-Superintendent Kennedy. To some extent this question can be
answered, at this point; but there will still remain some mysteries
unexplainable until the end of this narration, and even some impossible
to elucidate until the close of the war and the re-union of Northern and
Southern society on the old basis, makes it possible to reveal all that
may have occurred during the conflict.
There are two modes in which romances can be written. The first, and
perhaps the more popular, is that in which no bound whatever is set by
either probability or conscience--in which the narrator assumes to know
what never could be known except to an omniscient being, and to describe
such circumstances as never could have occurred in any world under the
same general regulations as our own. To this writer, no doors are
barred, and from him the secret of no heart can be hidden. He has no
difficulty whatever in retracing the path of history, back to the days
of Michael Paleologus or Timour the Tartar, and describing the viands
set upon their tables and the thoughts that may have entered their
brains; while in events of the present day he finds no more trouble in
describing circumstantially the last moments of a traveller dying alone
at the North Pole or in the midst of the most trackless waste of Sahara.
The manner in which he became possessed of the facts narrated, is held
to be a matter of very little consequence; and if he lacks the
opportunity of calling other witnesses or surrounding circumstances to
corroborate him, he at least is removed from the fear of any
authoritative contradiction. The reader, of course, would sometimes be
grateful for a little insight into what is so impenetrably hidden; and
if the links binding the narrator to his subject were made a little
plainer to the naked eye, perhaps more general satisfaction might be
given. When, for instance, in the "Legend of the Terrible Tower," Sir
Bronzeface the Implacable is shown as threatening the Lady Charmengarde
with the most cruel tortures his slighted love and growing hate can
devise--when the very words of that atrocious monster are set down as
carefully as if they had been taken from his lips by the rapid pencil of
the stenographer--and when in the context we learn that in the midst of
his threatenings, the thousand barrels of gunpowder secretly stored in
another part of the castle for the purpose of arming a million of
retainers to make a deadly onslaught on the stronghold of his hated
rival the Lord of Hardcheek, suddenly takes fire, and the castle, with
both the interlocutors and all others who could possibly be present, is
seen hurled into infinitesimal fragments,--there is some unavoidable
curiosity in the mind of the reader, at this juncture, to know precisely
how these very words and actions became known to the narrator, as well
as how the gunpowder was manufactured in the year of grace nine hundred
and eighty-four.
For corresponding knowledge of events in the actual present, the
believers in clairvoyance may be able to offer some explanation; but,
unfortunately or the reverse, the believers in effective clairvoyance
are in a very meagre minority; and the world will cling a little
tenaciously to the belief that what cannot be seen, heard, or otherwise
realized by the recognized natural senses, cannot be definitely
ascertained. Let it not be for one moment supposed, meanwhile, that
romances constructed on such bases will be less popular than those which
have more reason and probability at the bottom; for the majority of
novel-readers desire to be frightened, mystified or idly amused; and
perhaps that writer who makes _thought_ a condition of reading and
understanding what he writes, commits the most silly of crimes against
his own pocket and reputation.
The other mode in which romances can be written, is that in which the
writer only details that which he has enjoyed an opportunity to know,
embodying with them such speculations and reflections as seem
legitimately to grow out of the subject. This mode is unquestionably an
unprofitable one to employ; but unfortunately this narration can be
conducted on no other. Actual events and conversations _only_ are given,
and no speculations as to _what might have been_ can be indulged. It
might have been very easy to depict a disloyal or "secesh" household in
this city, and a club of fashionable people with pro-slavery sympathies,
meeting periodically, with grips, signs and passwords, and exercising an
injurious influence on the National cause by holding clandestine
correspondence with rebels in the revolted States. That such households
have existed in this city during the entire struggle, and that such
combinations of disloyal men have been doing their worst to cripple the
government and distract the nation, no rational man doubts for a moment.
But _no loyal citizen has been admitted behind the curtain, in either of
the supposable instances_. No one could have been, and still remained
loyal, without making such public revelations in the interest of
patriotism, that any pretended _private_ revelation must necessarily
have become a farce. No one, especially, would have held any such secret
for months, and then divulged it in the ambiguous mode of a romance,
while arbitrary arrests and unexplained imprisonments were making the
once free States of the Old Union a second Venice. Suspicious
circumstances have been observed, and suspicious persons put under
watch; but if anything more than mere suspicion has been reached, the
disloyal persons themselves, and the government, are the only parties
who possess the information.
All this, to say that the materials for this narration have not been
gathered from disloyal sources or found in disloyal company, and that,
as a consequence, it does not enter within doors closed to true men, by
any magic key of the mind or the imagination. And if any mystery
suggested, from that cause remains even partially unsolved, truth and
loyalty, and not a desire for mystification, must supply the
explanation.
And now to detail, very briefly, what is further known of the house on
East 5-- Street, and its occupation.
It has already been related that Superintendent Kennedy, in spite of his
slighting replies to the two young men, did not really undervalue their
information, and that two vigilant detectives, with assistants, were
entrusted with the duty of watching the two houses. "L---- and another
good man" had been ordered to take charge of the house on East
5--Street, and they entered upon their duties at once. Not as ordinary
policemen, of course, for such a plan would necessarily have defeated
any chance of successful observation. It was as a very modest private
gentleman, elderly, with a cane and a slight limp, that L---- managed to
lounge by the house repeatedly within the space of an hour; while his
assistant, dressed in the clothes of a glass-mender, and with a box of
the proper cut strapped on his back, haunted that street and invited
business with a cry which the boys irreverently designated "glass
pudding!" During the two hours thus spent, no person entered or left the
house, nor was there a sign of life at any of the windows,--though what
eyes may really have been watching from those closed blinds, it is quite
impossible to say. Enough that they kept their watch closely until the
coming on of the same heavy thunder-storm which burst upon the visitors
to the sorceress in Prince Street; and that when the first drops of that
shower were falling, conceiving themselves very unlikely to be repaid
for a thorough wetting, they temporarily withdrew to the Station-house,
or, as the act would now be expressed, "raised the blockade" for a very
limited period.
Within five minutes after their departure, and when the wind and the
rain had fairly begun to play together at rough gymnastics in the
street, there was evidence that eyes probably _had_ been observing the
elderly gentleman with the limp, walking past the house a little too
frequently. At all events, a man of tall figure, wrapped in an oil-skin
coat, and with a round black hat and umbrella, emerged from the front
door and dashed rapidly up the street. He was gone but a few minutes,
and returned in the very height of the storm, in a carriage which drew
up at the door. Perhaps ten minutes more, and some of the neighbors, who
had been observing these singular movements, saw the same tall man, with
an elderly lady and two younger ones, come out and enter the carriage,
which, after taking on two large trunks, drove away at ordinary speed.
The conclusion to which these good people came, was that the party were
obliged to go out in the storm for the purpose of catching one of the
late evening trains out of the city; and they may have been very nearly
correct in the conjecture.
The storm passed over, and the summer evening came on. The two
detectives came back to their places, varying their disguises for the
evening. The house seemed all quiet, as before, and L---- came to the
conclusion that there was either no one within or that the inmates were
disposed to lie very close, as they did not even open the front windows
to admit the clear evening air, cooled by the shower, or to look at the
splendid sunset sky. So time passed on until nine o'clock, when the two
detectives agreed to adopt the "ride-and-tie" principle--one keeping
strict watch until midnight and the other until morning. This
arrangement was duly carried out; and L----, who had taken the turn till
midnight, again resumed his place at six o'clock. All was quiet--no one
had entered or left the house, and L---- became thoroughly satisfied
that it must be unoccupied. He might have haunted the house in one
disguise or another, retaining the same correct opinion, until doomsday,
had not one of the neighboring houses contained one of those inquisitive
gentlemen (sometimes depreciatingly called "meddlers") who can never be
content without knowing the business of all others, better than their
own.
This person, partially an invalid, and much confined to the house and to
very short walks in the neighborhood,--had observed the surveillance of
the day before, still continued that morning; and he had also observed
the episode of the carriage in the midst of the thunder-storm, of which
the officer was as yet happily oblivious. Putting all the appearances
together, he concluded that there had been some accusation, a watch and
an escape; and about nine o'clock that morning he strolled out to the
sidewalk; accosted the detective; informed him, with a knowing wink of
the eye, that he understood the whole matter; and finished by advising
him that "the birds had flown," and of the particular time when they
took wing. As appendiary matter, he also informed the detective that the
house was a furnished one belonging to a wealthy grocer who had just
gone to Europe with his family--that it had been rented for a few weeks
past to some very odd people--and that he had wondered at their being no
attention paid to it before, as he was satisfied it was a receptacle for
stolen goods.
To say that L---- was surprised at the first part of this intelligence,
would be to say nothing; to say that he was mortified and enraged at
being obliged to make such a report to the Superintendent, would be to
put the case very mildly; and to say that he felt like amputating the
head of a large-sized nail with his teeth, would only being doing
justice to his feelings at this juncture.
The communicative neighbor finally informed him that he doubted whether
the house was fastened, from the suddenness of the departure the day
before; and on the hint the detective acted. The front door was found to
be secured, but only by the latch-key bolt; and the area door was
entirely unfastened. They entered and explored the house. It was a
neatly furnished modern building, with everything in its place and
nothing to mark any hasty departure of occupants, except a dinner-table
left setting in the dining-room, with food on the plates and evidence
that the meal had been left unfinished.
No clothing or other articles that could have belonged to the late
inmates had been left behind, except half a dozen books, one of which
was Simms' "History of South Carolina," another a copy of that odd
jumble of short sketches published three or four years ago by Miss
Martha Haines Butt, and a third one of Marion Harland's novels--"The
Hidden Path." Part of a letter was found, the signature gone and all one
side burned off, as if it had been used in lighting a cigar or a
gas-burner, but still showing the date; "Richmond, Va., C.S.A., May
28th, 1862," and apparently written by a young officer in the
Confederate army to his sister in this city. No other traces were found,
though these were quite enough to increase the chagrin of the
detectives, in the knowledge that they had allowed persons to escape who
certainly must have been in correspondence with the rebel capital; and
with this the crest-fallen L---- and his subordinate prepared to make
their report to a superior not much in the habit of excusing failure or
making allowance for extenuating circumstances.
It is to be believed that the inquisitive and communicative neighbor
enjoyed the best night's rest he had known for a twelvemonth, on the
night following, after this conference with a couple of detectives and
this peep into a house that had really excited his curiosity. It is
doubtful, meanwhile, whether the grocer landlord, informed by his agent,
by the next mail, of the exodus of his tenants without liquidation, saw
the matter in so enjoyable a light.
Of course, with the fugitives given some fifteen hours start and the use
of modern railroad facilities, any thought of pursuit would have been
folly, even had there been any conclusive data upon which to found
proceedings for their apprehension. And with such meagre and
unsatisfactory results closed that portion of the supposed secession
mystery--at least for the time. After events showed that the "red woman"
disappeared from Prince Street on the same night, whether in company
with her former acquaintances or alone. What after-glimpses were caught
of any of the other persons concerned, will be shown at a later period
of this narration.