ON TO WASHINGTON
“Everybody is happy but me! Oh, Uncle Gideon, I have looked all over, up
and down, and everywhere in the papers, and I cannot see one word about
Roland! Oh, Roland! Roland!” moaned little Rosemary, as she sat on the
seat beside the old skipper in the crowded car.
“My poor little girl, such a small item as the rescue of a single
prisoner from the pirate ship would scarcely be noticed in a first
hurried account of the capture by the _Eagle_. Have patience, my dear
little one. In a few hours we shall hear from Le himself whether Roland
is with him. And remember, my girl, that you are going to meet your dear
mother and aunt, and all your near relations, whom you have not seen for
so many years, and who are counting the hours until you come to them.
Think of your own kindred, my child.”
“Oh! I do, I do! And I do love my dear mother and dear aunt, dearly,
dearly! But they are both safe and well, and so I am not anxious about
them. But, oh! Roland! Roland!” she wailed, in a little, low tone.
Mrs. Force, who sat beside her husband immediately in front of Rosemary
and her uncle, heard the little, low moan, and turning to the squire,
said.
“Abel, dear, will you change seats with little Rosemary, and let the
child sit with me for a while?”
“Certainly,” replied Mr. Force, and the change was effected at once.
Mrs. Force put one arm around Rosemary’s waist, and drew her in a close
embrace, as she whispered:
“You must pray, and hope, and trust, my dear. We have no reason to fear
that any evil has happened to Roland.”
“Oh, ma’am, I am praying all the time, in my heart, for Roland,” sighed
the girl.
“Well, darling, when you pray, you must trust.”
“Oh, I do try to! I do try to! But this dreadful uncertainty! Oh! just
look how happy Odalite and the other girls are! But Odalite—every time
she turns her head around her face flashes! She is so delighted! Oh! I
hope I am not envious, but I do wish I felt as sure of seeing Roland
safe and well as you all are of seeing Leonidas great and happy!”
Mrs. Force smiled, pensively, at the exaggerated words of the poor
little girl, but she did not attempt to criticize them.
It was now nearly ten o’clock, and in spite of excitement and anxiety
the travelers yielded to a sense of fatigue and drowsiness, ceased to
talk, and began to doze.
There was no sleeping car on that train, or if there was, the party had
not engaged berths, so they sat in uneasy attitudes, and dropped off,
one by one, into slumber, that was only disturbed by the stopping of the
train at the stations, and quickly resumed when the train was again in
motion.
They woke up thoroughly when they reached Philadelphia, where several
more cars were attached to the train, and a number of troops got on to
go to Washington, en route to reinforce Gen. Grant’s army. Many of these
soldiers could not find seats, though the train was a long one, and they
had to stand in a line down the middle of the cars.
This made the air stifling, oppressive and stupefying.
Our party dropped off into a deep, unwholesome sleep, which lasted until
the train reached Baltimore, when they one and all awoke with a sense of
sickness and semisuffocation.
But here people got in and people got out, doors were opened at each
end, and a draught of purifying air went through and revived the
sufferers.
Here still more cars were attached to the train, and more troops got on,
and the crowd was even closer than before.
Again our victims succumbed to the stupefying effects of the confined
air, and slept heavily and unhealthily until they reached Washington.
Day had dawned when the train crawled into the depot.
The closely packed multitude got out, and filled all the space that was
under cover.
Mr. Force piloted his party through the crowd, and out into the open
air.
“I doubt if we can get a carriage,” said the squire, looking around.
And his doubts were speedily and unpleasantly set at rest. He could not.
If there had been any on the spot they had been seized by the first
travelers, who had jumped off the train to secure a ride.
“There is nothing for it but to walk to our hotel. Luckily, it is not
very far off,” said Mr. Force.
It was a fine morning, and dawn was reddening in the east as they left
the depot and walked on toward Pennsylvania Avenue. They walked somewhat
stiffly at first, from having been cramped up so long in the railway
train, but the fresh air was reviving, and so they all felt more
invigorated at every yard by their progress.
They reached the hotel with fine appetites for breakfast.
Mr. Force found, on inquiring at the office, that the house was full;
there was not a room or a bed to spare; but the house could give them
breakfast.
So they waited in the public parlor until the breakfast hour came, when
they went down into the saloon and took their morning meal.
After breakfast Mr. Force went into the reading room to inquire about
the _Argente_ and to look at the morning papers.
The rest of his party waited for him at the foot of the stairs leading
to the parlor.
At last he came and said:
“The _Argente_ has not yet reached the navy yard, nor has she been heard
from since leaving New York yesterday morning, but she is expected
to-day.”
“And what are we to do next?” inquired Mrs. Force.
“You and the girls will remain here, in the ladies’ parlor, and read the
newspapers, or amuse yourselves in any way you please. Capt. Grandiere
is going to see the secretary of the navy to report the capture of his
clipper, the _Kitty_, by the _Argente_. Enderby will go out with me in
search of lodgings. We must find some place to sleep in this overcrowded
city. And we must get out of it as soon as we can. As soon, that is, as
the _Argente_ business is settled and Leonidas gets his leave. We shall
all return here in time for dinner.”
With these words Mr. Force opened the door of the parlor and saw the
ladies of his party in.
It was yet so early that the parlor was quite empty.
“I think you might venture to recline on some of these sofas and go to
sleep,” said the squire, as he nodded good-morning and left the room,
accompanied by the earl and the skipper.
When they went down, left the hotel and stood upon the sidewalk, Mr.
Force looked up and down the streets in search of that line of hacks
which usually stands drawn up before every large hotel. But it was not
to be seen.
Inquiry of the porters developed a startling fact—nearly all the horses
in Washington had a plague called epizoötic. There were but few hacks in
the public service now, and they were always “on the go.” There were but
few street cars running, because there were but few horses to draw them,
and they were always overcrowded.
“Shall we walk, Enderby? Or shall we stand on the reeking platform of
one of these passing cars?” Mr. Force inquired.
“Oh, walk, by all means, as long as we have a leg to stand on, in
preference to adding three hundred pounds more to the burden of those
poor beasts,” promptly replied the earl.
“Fortunately, all the best hotels are on or near the avenue,” observed
the squire, as they turned westward.
“Now, doesn’t it seem as if war were quite enough of evil without a
plague among the horses, Enderby?” inquired Abel Force.
“You may thank Heaven that the plague is not among the humans,” replied
the earl.
“Here is the Metropolitan. We will try here,” said the squire.
And they went in, but were not successful; the house was full.
So hotel after hotel was tried, but in vain. All were full. The two
gentlemen walked on toward the west end of the avenue. There at length
they found, in one of the largest and best hotels in the city, a suit of
three rooms—two double-bedded chambers and one single one.
These were secured at once for their party of eight, and at a rather
high price, too.
Then they went back to the place where they had left the ladies of the
party.
The old skipper had already returned.
Mr. Force reported progress, and described the best apartments he had
been able to find.
“You see there is scarcely space left for us in Washington. We must get
back to old Maryland as fast as we can,” added the squire.
Capt. Grandiere followed suit and told of his adventures. He had not
been able to see the secretary at all. Anteroom full of lubbers who were
seeking offices or other favors. He had to wait his turn, and before his
turn came a fellow opened an inner door and announced that the secretary
could see no one else that day, and added that he had gone home. Then
he—the skipper—had gone down to the navy yard to inquire about the
_Argente_, and discovered that the prize had been signaled from Fortress
Monroe and was expected to be at Washington Navy Yard the next day.
“And you shall see as fine a sight as you could wish when I am
confronted with that devil to-morrow! He expects, by what we read, to be
treated as a prisoner of war, and to be put on his parole and set free.
He certainly doesn’t expect to find me on hand to stop his little game
and send him to prison to be tried for his life, and in the end hung for
piracy!” added the old skipper.
“Oh, if we could only hear from Roland!” sighed little Rosemary.
“Be patient, dear. We shall hear to-morrow,” whispered Mrs. Force.
“Oh! ‘To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow!’” sighed Rosemary.
“We will go down and get some luncheon, and then go on to our new
quarters.”
“And to-night we shall sleep in motionless beds for the first time in
two weeks, thank Heaven!” exclaimed Wynnette.
They went down to the dining saloon and lunched. Then Mr. Force settled
the bill and the whole party went out.
The squire caught a hack “on the fly,” put his five ladies into it and
gave the driver the address. The hack drove off.
The three gentlemen walked all the way to the hotel.
When they reached it and were gathered in the parlor some little
discussion took place as to the division of three rooms among eight
persons. And it was concluded that the four girls should have one of the
double-bedded rooms; the earl and the captain should have the other; and
Mr. and Mrs. Force should have the small one.
The party retired very early that night, and in spite of anticipations
of the morning they all slept profoundly.