THE CAPTAIN OF THE “ARGENTE”
Our travelers arose very early the next morning.
The very first news that met Mr. Force on his entrance into the
gentlemen’s reading room was, that the _Argente_ was in the navy yard.
She had arrived at dawn that morning.
The squire hastened to the ladies’ parlor to communicate the news to
Mrs. Force and the girls.
There was a general exclamation of joy, and then a cry of sharp anxiety
from Rosemary:
“Oh! when shall we find out about Roland?” she pleaded.
“This very morning, dear child! No more to-morrows! To-morrow has come!”
replied Mrs. Force, with a smile—yet, oh! how wan a smile!
“Come down to breakfast at once. We will get a cup of coffee or
something, and then start for the navy yard and go on board the
_Argente_,” said the squire, giving his arm to his wife.
They went down to the saloon and breakfasted as well as they could for
the excitement, which took away their appetite.
After that, Mr. Force went out to hunt up a carriage, for there was none
on the stand. When he returned, he said:
“My children, I could only get one hack, and it will hold but four
persons inside. Your Uncle Enderby does not wish to go out. Therefore,
Wynnette and Elva, you will remain here under the protection of your
uncle, until we come back. Your mother, your sister, and your little
friend will go with me.”
“But where is Uncle Gideon?” inquired Rosemary.
“My child, chains would not have held him here. He has gone down in an
omnibus to the navy yard.”
Preparations were soon made, and Mr. Force and the three ladies were on
their way to the east end of the city.
They drove through the navy yard gate, past the officers’ quarters and
the workshops, and down to the water side.
There lay the _Argente_ at anchor a few hundred yards from the shore.
Mr. Force directed the driver to draw up.
Then he alighted from the carriage and handed his wife down; Odalite and
Rosemary sprang out unassisted.
Odalite’s face was bright, eager, expectant; Rosemary’s pale, timid and
anxious; both stood looking out upon the prize.
“How shall we reach the ship?” inquired Mrs. Force.
“I must signal for a boat to come off and fetch us! Stay, there is a
boat coming,” announced the squire, and soon they all saw the boat that
had been partly hidden in the shadow of the ship’s hulk, put off from
her side. It was rowed by six sailors and approached the shore rapidly.
“Who is in it? Oh, if it should be Roland!” aspirated Rosemary, in a
low, deep tone.
“Who is it, Abel?” inquired Mrs. Force of her husband, who was looking
through a field glass.
“There is but one man besides the oarsmen, and his back is toward us. I
do not know who he is; but—he is neither Leonidas nor Roland! He is much
too stout for either of our boys! He is as broad-backed as old Gideon
Grandiere!”
“By the way, where is Capt. Grandiere? You said he had come down to the
yard; but we have not seen him.”
“My dear, he was a full half hour in advance of us, and must be on board
the _Argente_, giving the officers and crew the benefit of his views on
piracy! Come, the boat is almost here!”
A few minutes after the boat landed, the sailors drew in their oars and
the single passenger turned around, got upon his feet, and stepped
ashore.
He was the old skipper.
“Oh! Capt. Grandiere! What news?” exclaimed Mr. Force, while all his
party looked the eager question which they did not put into words.
“No news at all! Nothing but a fresh disappointment and a longer
suspense.”
“What do you mean?” inquired Mrs. Force.
The old man took off his cap, drew his red bandanna from its crown,
deliberately wiped his face and head, replaced the handkerchief in his
cap and his cap upon his crown and answered:
“There’s nobody aboard that can tell me anything, or that will tell
anything if they can.”
“And did you learn nothing?”
“Nothing but this: that Lieut. Force has gone to make his report at
headquarters, and nobody knows when he will be back. And the pirate and
his mate are gone before the commissioner of prisoners, and nobody knows
what their fate is to be.”
“And did you hear nothing—nothing at all of Roland?” inquired Rosemary,
in a faint voice.
“Nothing whatever, my girl! I did inquire, but no one knew anything of
any young man of that name. I am very sorry, my poor child.”
Rosemary had grown very pale and looked as if she were about to faint.
The old skipper raised her in his arms and laid her in the carriage,
where she sank back upon the cushions.
Mrs. Force got in, seated herself beside Rosemary and drew the suffering
girl to her bosom.
“Have courage, my love,” she whispered, through her tears—“have courage.
Roland may have made his escape from the _Argente_ before she was
captured by the _Eagle_; or he may be, by a mistake, with the other
prisoners on board a man-of-war. Have courage, dear love.”
“Oh, Mrs. Force, I cannot—I cannot any longer! I feel as if I should
give up and die!” moaned the girl.
Mr. Force handed Odalite into the carriage, and then, turning to the old
skipper, said:
“Capt. Grandiere, if you will get in with the ladies, I will take a seat
with the driver, and we will all go on together.”
“I will take the seat by the driver, and thank you, if you will allow
me; but I cannot be shut up in the inside of that hack; I would rather
walk,” replied the old sailor.
“As you please,” said Mr. Force; and he helped the skipper to mount the
box, and then entered the carriage and seated himself with his
“womenkind.”
“Where to, sir?” inquired the driver.
“To the office of the commissioner of prisoners; and on your way call at
the hotel where you took us up.”
“Yes, sir.”
The carriage drove off, passed through the navy yard gate again, and
took its way up Garrison Street to Pennsylvania Avenue, and thence to
the West End.
Half an hour’s rapid drive brought the party to the front of their
hotel.
“My dear,” said the squire to his wife, “I cannot take you and these
girls to the commissioner’s office. I will take you upstairs, and ask
your brother if he would like to accompany me.”
“Very well, Abel,” replied the lady.
Mr. Force got out, handed down his wife and the young ladies, and
escorted them into the hotel.
They found the earl and his two nieces in the parlor. The two girls
started up with the question:
“What news?”
“No very definite news,” replied their father; “but your mamma will tell
you all we have learned. I am going to the office of the commissioner of
prisoners, to see if I can meet Le. If I can, I will wait until he is at
leisure, and bring him here. Enderby, would you like to go with me and
see what it is?”
“Very much,” replied the earl.
And the two men went out together. They entered the carriage, which was
driven off immediately.
It was but a short drive, and in less than ten minutes the carriage drew
up, and the gentlemen alighted.
Capt. Grandiere climbed down from his seat, and the three entered the
building together.
The place had once been a commodious dwelling house, but was now, like
many others of the finest mansions in Washington, taken for the service
of the government. A sentinel was on guard before the door. Mr. Force
spoke a few words to him, and passed on with his party. He entered a
front hall, and thence through a door on the right they passed into a
large front room, furnished with seats all around its walls, and a long
table at its back, with chairs behind it, and folios and stationery on
its top. Two or three men in uniform sat behind this table, while all
around the room, on the benches against the walls, sat a rough-looking
score of men guarded by soldiers. There was another door on the right of
the long table, and opening into a rear room. A sentinel or janitor
stood at that door.
While they waited to be admitted to the presence of the commissioner,
the door opened, and two prisoners came out, guarded by a detachment of
soldiers.
“There he is! There is the head devil—and not in irons, either! And
there—there, in his company—a prisoner, too, by all that is
atrocious!—is my mate, Roland!”
The two gentlemen looked up, stared at the prisoners who were slowly
crossing the room to the outer door, closely guarded by the
soldiers—stared until the elder and stouter of the two lifted the back
of his hand to his forehead in a mock salute, and smiled, while the
younger fixed a gaze of yearning entreaty upon the face of his old
captain, and then turned the same gaze upon his old friend.
Yes! the pirate’s first officer, taken, red-handed, with him, was Roland
Bayard!
But who was the pirate himself?