It was a week later.
Virginia Grymes had just returned home from a dance to find her father,
as usual, in the library. On the table in front of his armchair were many
empty wine glasses and a few broken card counters. He was playing a game
of solitaire, but it was very evident that he had been playing at cards
with a gathering of friends.
Virginia looked at the card-littered, wet table disapprovingly.
“You’ve been gambling again, father,” she said, accusingly, “and after
you promised me!”
The district attorney flushed.
“There, there, Jinny! Just a little game between friends. But I have some
news for you. Lafitte has been here.”
“To see me?” eagerly.
“No, honey, on business. But there is more news, if you care to hear it.”
“What is it, father?” She sat on the arm of his chair, playfully rumpling
his hair.
“It’s more of a joke, I think. Your friend, the Governor, sent a revenue
cutter yesterday—that is, he got Washington to send one—to Barataria
Bay, with the purpose of destroying the colony of Grande Terre. But it
turned out to be a farce. The pompous fool ought to have known that the
smugglers have spies everywhere. Why, they knew the government vessel was
coming before it had left the harbor.”
Virginia was immediately all interest.
“So what happened?”
“Well, when Captain Lloyd and his crew arrived at Grande Terre, the
smugglers, or pirates—whichever you prefer—simply laughed at them. Not
only that, but they politely asked them to come ashore and offered them
cognac and champagne. Think of it—cognac and champagne, when they came
with the intention of capturing the whole place! Anyway, they were forced
to return, empty-handed, having been warned by the Baratarians not to
return.” He paused to chuckle. “I think it’s the best joke I’ve heard
in a long time. All New Orleans is talking about it, and laughing at
Claiborne up their sleeves. He should have known that it would take more
than one ship and one crew of customs officers to attack hundreds of
desperate, well-armed men who take pleasure in defying the law. But not
only that, it is said that even the government agents are in partnership
with the smugglers. It is really hard to tell who isn’t, nowadays.”
Virginia looked thoughtful.
“Still, father, I hardly think the Governor was unprepared for this. He
must be shrewd enough to think of some other plan, if that failed; or he
wouldn’t be the Governor of Louisiana.”
Grymes only laughed in answer.
Virginia’s suspicions were proved well founded the next day, however, for
the citizens of New Orleans found a new proclamation posted about the
city.
This was to the effect that His Excellency denounced the Baratarians as
pirates and cautioned the residents of the state to have intercourse with
them in no way whatsoever. He moreover threatened dire penalties for
those who would disobey this decree, together with any Baratarian who
might fall into his hands.
However, to the secret joy of the majority of the inhabitants, notably
the Creoles, with whom the United States government was at the time
extremely unpopular, the Baratarians heeded the gubernatorial threats no
more than if they had never been published. Frightened? Not they, _mes
amis_!
On the contrary, the Lafittes, exquisitely dressed, chatted with the
prominent merchants and bankers on street corners and in the cafés; they
patronized charities and public entertainments more than ever, were still
prominent figures at the social functions of New Orleans society—and
continued to post their notices of slave auctions, right beside the
Governor’s proclamation!
By this time the worthy Claiborne became desperate. It was not long
before a second manifesto appeared, offering five hundred dollars reward
for the arrest of either of the Lafittes.
It was then that matters came to a head.