THE war still raged. The whole world, one might dare to say, was
more or less agitated by this conflict. Vigilance, tightening its
grasp here, redoubling its blows there, watching the inlets and
outlets everywhere, had taught a once happy people that war was no
holiday sport. But the great end must be reached, the end of the
"War of the Rebellion" with the government intact. To accomplish
this, every means was deemed fair and honorable. Blockading,
starvation, destruction of property, the torch-yea, any and every
appliance that would tend to subdue a hostile people, was brought
into requisition to maintain the Union.
So, before the third year of the memorable civil war had run its
bloody course, want almost stalked abroad in this fair Southern
land. But for the successful, though occasional ventures of some
friendly vessel, that succeeded in running the blockade, bringing
stores necessary for the comfort of a war-worn people, dire want
might have reigned supreme in many a household, where wealth and
luxury once dwelt. So much for the good accomplished by those bold
adventurers of the sea. And yet there were blockade-runners-a few, a
very few, thank Heaven-who were but a set of human vultures, preying
upon their fellow-beings, and who, for a sum of gold, would lend
their hand to any deed of darkness. To this latter class belonged
Joe Haralson, the well-known captain of the Tigress, the most
successful blockade-runner on all the southern coast. Haralson
himself was a native of one of the fertile cotton islands off the
coast of the Palmetto State, and, in an hour of danger, had deserted
his country, and fled to the West Indies. There he equipped a vessel
for blockade-running, and being familiar with much of the southern
coast, he was always successful in eluding the guns of the
blockading fleets, and entering safely with his cargo. The supplies
of merchandise, and the munitions of war that he occasionally
landed, were exchanged for cotton, which he sold for gold at a
fabulous profit.
It was the summer after the removal of Mr. Mordecai's family to
Inglewood. In the month of June, Joe Haralson anchored the Tigress
safely within the port of Havana. New Providence was his usual
harbor of refuge; but now, other business than the successful
disposal of his cargo of cotton had brought him thither. One soft,
sweet morning, in this land where spring and summer alternate, Leah
had been out driving with her husband, enjoying the early morning
breeze, and hoping that it would benefit the delicate little Sarah,
then in her second summer. They drew near the Plaza de la Mar, and
Emile remarked, as he surveyed the endless rows of shipping:
"There, Leah, see the countless numbers of flags."
"Yes, all but the flag of our struggling country," she replied. "I
wonder if that will ever become a recognized flag among nations?"
"I fear not," Emile replied gravely. "But there! our darling has
fallen asleep! We must hasten home."
On reaching home, Emile kissed his wife, and softly kissed his
sleeping baby too, before alighting from the light volante; and
then, throwing the lines to Petro, the slave, who was awaiting their
return, he said, "Take care of the pony, Petro;" and turning to his
wife--"You take care of my wee lamb, Leah, till I come again," and
left them.
An hour later, and a thick-set, rough-visaged man entered the
banking-house of Gardner & Company, and asked, in faltering English,
"Is Se¤or Le Grande in?"
"Yes," replied Mr. Gardner. "Here, Mr. Le Grande, this man wants to
see you." Emile approached, and looking curiously at the stranger,
observed that he was clad partly in sailor's, partly in citizen's
clothes. "What will you have, sir?" demanded Emile.
"Se¤or," replied the strange man, whose broken English betrayed his
Spanish tongue, "Dere is at da w'arf Blanco Plaza, a 'Merican vessel
from da States. A seik frien' wish to see se¤or Le Grande, very
quick, very quick, se¤or."
"From what State does the vessel come?" asked Emile in astonishment.
"From da Soutern State, se¤or, da Pa'metto State."
In a moment Emile conjectured that it was some blockade-runner, and
supposed some friend or relative had arrived, and, being unable to
come on shore, had indeed sent for him. Without waiting to consider,
and without further explanation, he accompanied the strange guide,
who led the way to the wharf. The flags were floating free and gay,
yet as this nameless cicerone pointed out the Tigress, that lay
before them with flag staff bare, Emile Le Grande thought, "The
captain is afraid to show his colors; well he may be."
"Captain Haralson, Se¤or Le Grande," said the guide, in broken
accents, as he entered the ship's cabin, where the captain awaited
his return. "I told cap'n you I would bring him," he continued, with
a savage grin upon his features.
"Who is it would see me?" demanded Emile. "Where is my sick friend?"
"You are a prisoner, sir," replied the captain fiercely, "a fugitive
from justice, and your State calls for your return."
"By what authority do you utter those words, you scoundrel?" replied
Emile, in bewildered indignation.
"By the authority of those you have injured, and who have sent me to
bring you back."
"Who, and where are my accusers?" asked Emile angrily. "Let them
dare confront me!"
"Then follow me," said the captain, as he passed along to a small
apartment, a kind of saloon, at the end of the vessel. He gave three
sharp, quick raps at the door, then turned the bolt and entered.
Emile followed. Seated before them upon a ship-lounge, with a book
lying idly in her lap, was-Rebecca Mordecai!
"Aha! and you have come at last, captain," she said. Arising from
her seat and turning her eyes upon Emile, she continued, "Mr. Le
Grande, we meet again, securely as you deemed yourself beyond the
reach of justice. You see oceans and shell-guns are no barriers in
the way of the accomplishment of my ends. You fled from your
country, thinking your foul crime would never come to light; but
'murder will out,' and now, you are my prisoner. Justice will yet be
avenged."
"What do you mean, woman? your tongue contains the poison of asps.
If I did not know your face, I would swear you were some escaped
inmate of a madhouse. Tell me your meaning, lunatic," replied Emile,
in wrathful astonishment.
"Call me lunatic, if you dare, you miserable felon. Deny my words,
if you please, but your own written confession is in my hands."
"Confession of what?" shouted Emile, stamping his foot in
indignation. "Never, never, am I your prisoner! I'll leave this
cursed place,--"
"Not so fast, my friend," said Joe Haralson menacingly, as Emile
made an attempt to leave the room. "Not so fast! I am promised much
gold, if I bring you alive to your native State; and that gold, my
friend, I shall have."
"Release me! release me!" shouted Emile, "I am an innocent man. This
woman--"
"Hush, my friend, or I'll stow you away where your cries will not
reach any human ear. Be quiet, my lad."
Emile saw that resistance was useless; and he said calmly, turning
again to Rebecca "Of what crime am I guilty, that you thus hunt me
as you would a wild beast?"
"Would you know?" she replied, with a scornful, cruel laugh. "Would
you know even half the crimes that are scored against you in your
native State?"
"You can tell me of none," he replied sullenly, regretting that he
had again spoken to this merciless woman, into whose snare he had so
unwarily fallen.
"Perhaps you think we have not yet discovered who murdered Mark
Abrams; but, sir, we have."
"Who was it?" indignantly inquired Emile.
"It was-Emile-Le-Grande," she replied slowly, her fierce eye marking
every emotion of his face.
"Great Heavens. What an atrocity!"
"Deny it if you dare, I have the proof."
"Prove it, if you can. I dare you to prove it. But I must leave this
place. Such nonsense shall not detain me longer. I know that you are
mad.-Captain, release me. Do not heed the ravings of that woman any
longer."
"I am pledged, sir, on the accusation of this woman, to convey you
safely back to the State, and back you must go. I can allow you no
opportunity to escape."
"I must see my wife first. I cannot go without it."
"The vessel is ready to start. It will be impossible for you to see
her. If you are quiet and obedient, you shall not be manacled; if
you resist, we shall stow you away in security. Be wise now, and be
silent."
"But my wife--"
"In an hour the Tigress will be out of port, sir, and you cannot see
her."
"Alas! alas!" groaned Emile. "In Heaven's name, why has this evil
befallen me?" and quickly sinking down upon a cabin stool, he said,
"Keep me from the presence of this wretched lunatic, captain, if I
must go. Yes, if I must be stolen in this cowardly way, from a
peaceful home, and taken from a loving wife and innocent, helpless
child, I can but submit; but keep that wretched woman out of my
presence, I implore you."
"My friend, you may stay in here," replied the relentless captain,
"till we are out of port;" and opening the door of a small room that
contained only a port-hole of a window, he locked Emile in, and then
busied himself with preparations for a speedy departure. Once shut
in, Emile drew from his pocket a slip of paper, and addressed a line
to Gardner & Company, urging his friend to go for his wife, and come
to him at once. From his diminutive window he spied a slave near by,
and quickly summoning him, said, "Here's my watch, boy; take this
note quick to Gardner & Company, and my watch shall be yours." Then
he threw the slip of paper out of the window. Distressed and
dismayed, he sank down again, nervous and miserable, for fear the
Tigress would depart before his wife and Mr. Gardner should arrive.
RECEIVING Emile's mysterious note, Mr. Gardner went with all
possible speed to the young man's home, and informed Leah of what
had transpired. "I do not understand this note," he said; "there is
certainly a mystery about this summons. The man who came for Le
Grande had a strange, mean-looking face; but we must hasten."
Leah, so long accustomed to sorrow, evinced no unusual emotion at
these apprehensive words of Mr. Gardner; but calmly asked:
"Do you suppose any harm has come to my husband?"
"I cannot say, madam; I trust not."
"What motive could that man have had for deceiving Emile?"
"Mercy knows, but it will not do to trust these treacherous
Spaniards too far. Still his story may have been a truthful one. He
was undoubtedly a sailor. We will at least go and see. The pony and
chaise are ready."
"Take care of my darling, Margarita," said Leah, as she kissed her
sleeping child, and stepped out to the waiting volante.
"Now drive fast, Mr. Gardner. My heart misgives me."
Without replying, Mr. Gardner urged forward the fleet pony, and they
did not slacken their speed until street after street had been
traversed, corner upon corner turned, and they were in sight of the
Plaza de la Mar, with its myriads of ships' masts and flags in view.
Then, driving more slowly, Mr. Gardner turned upon the dock of pier
number three, and looked eagerly forward. There was no ship there.
Alighting from the chaise, Leah and Mr. Gardner approached a party
of ship-hands at work there, and asked:
"Is not this pier number three, where an American vessel has been
anchored?"
"Yes, se¤or, but the American vessel has been out of port an hour."
"Out of port an hour!" repeated Leah, in dismay. "Where is my
husband, then?"
Mr. Gardner shook his head dubiously, and said, "He may have gone
with them."
"Gone with them?" said Leah wildly. "Gone!" she uttered again, and
then sank helpless upon the wharf.
Mr. Gardner, deeply moved, lifted her again into the chaise, with
the assurance that her husband in all probability had returned to
his place of business.
Once more at the bank, Mr. Gardner was disappointed to find that
Emile had not returned, but instead, another scrap of paper was
awaiting him, bearing these dreadfully significant words:
"They have stolen me away, to take me back to my native State, to
answer for a fiendish crime of which I am not guilty. Send my wife
after me as soon as--"
Here Emile had stopped for want of time. He had thrown the note into
the hands of the same slave who had carried the first one.
"Take that to Gardner & Company, and they will pay you," he said, as
the Tigress pushed from shore.
The ship had started; and Emile, alone in darkness and despair,
tried vainly to conjecture whence this mysterious trouble had come,
and what would be its probable result.
The captain of the Tigress, as has been said, was a mercenary and
rapacious man, caring no more for a bleeding country than does a
bird of prey for a bleeding dove. So long as he obtained the gold of
his impoverished countrymen, and eluded the grasp of the blockading
fleet that so vigilantly guarded every important port, he was
contented. To the care of this man, this iron-hearted captain,
Rebecca Mordecai had committed herself, in her endeavor, as she
said, "to recall Emile Le Grande to the bar of justice."
"If you land me safely there, captain, I will give you gold. If you
bring me safely back with the culprit, I will give you more."
Haralson, aware that the coffers in the Mordecai vault were
well-filled with the coveted ore, pledged himself, and swore a
terrible oath, that his ocean wanderer should accomplish this trip,
even at the cost of the last drop of his heart's blood. How
successful he was in landing and treacherously inveigling his victim
into the ship, has been seen. Then, after two days of rather
tempestuous sailing in a tropical sea, dodging here and there, for
fear of being pounced upon by the maritime monsters he sought to
elude, Haralson landed, at length, at an inlet, obscure but well-
known to him, upon the low, sandy shore of the Palmetto State. With
downcast heart, Emile once more set foot upon his native soil, and
at the bidding of his captor followed sullenly in the way she led.
Chagrined, stung, maddened almost, he trod the devious way that led
him back once more-back, back, to the Queen City. Not back to his
father's comfortable home, for that, alas! was unoccupied, and the
family refugees in a foreign land. But back again, in a felon's
manacles, to find lodgment in a felon's cell-back to solitude and
despair, when at length, the grim old turnkey turned the grating
bolt upon him, and he was left alone in prison.