"Louder than the loud ocean, like a crash
Of echoing thunder." BYRON.
The day of the duel was a day of happiness to Emily Dumont. The
restraint which Jaspar's presence imposed was removed. Maxwell, from
prudence or some other motive, did not intrude upon her. Her heart was
rejoiced by the glad tidings which Uncle Nathan had conveyed to her.
Henry Carroll was permitted to enjoy her society. It was a day of bliss
to both; and, though a crowded steamer could ill afford the privacy
which new-born love ever seeks, yet opportunities of giving expression
to their feelings were not wanting. All day long they revelled in the
delightful emotions which warmed their hearts. Their intercourse was now
burdened by no painful reflections on the misery which had so lately
environed Emily. The means of her restoration to home and society were
at hand. The only difficulty now was to discover the best method of
establishing her rights. Against Jaspar and Maxwell they cherished no
ill-will,--they had no desire to punish them for their wicked designs.
Uncle Nathan, too, was in the "full enjoyment of his mind." The relief
he had "providentially" been able to afford to Emily's mind was the
medium of an abundant satisfaction. As the darkness began to gather, he
found an opportunity of conversing with Henry, whose entire devotion to
Emily during the day had rendered him a stranger in the gentlemen's
cabin. The plot which Hatchie had revealed to him had caused him but
little anxiety. Maxwell's wounded arm, he concluded, would delay its
execution. But he gave the particulars to Henry, who was not at all
satisfied that it would not be undertaken.
"We must watch to-night," said he.
"Sartain, we'll keep a good look-out; but the scamp can't do anything
while he is wounded."
"But he had confederates."
"Perhaps he has. But here is another friend," said Uncle Nathan, as he
perceived Pat Fegan, who had for some time been watching an opportunity
to speak to him.
"Sure, the naiger would like to spake wid yous," said Pat, in a whisper.
"What's the matter, Pat?" asked Henry.
"Nothin', your honor," replied Pat, promptly; "I was only tellin' this
gintleman that a poor divil was dhrunk on the lower deck, and he'd
betther go and praych timperance to him."
"No, no, Partrick, that's too bad," interrupted Uncle Nathan,
reprovingly; "I must teach you to tell the truth."
Pat opened his eyes with astonishment when he heard Uncle Nathan explain
to Henry the part he had borne in the drama, and was about to utter in
plain Irish his opinion of a man who would thus betray a confidence,
when Henry explained that he was an old friend of Hatchie and the lady.
"Long life to your honor, if that be true!" exclaimed Pat; "and you
won't blow on the naiger?"
"I have too strong an interest in him to do anything to his injury,"
replied Henry. "But show me the way to him, Pat."
"One at a time, if yous plaze," said Pat, as he perceived Uncle Nathan
about to follow them.
Pat led the way to the after part of the lower deck, to which Hatchie
had ascended, as on the night of the rescue, to inhale the fresh air.
This step was a safe one in the night, as, if any one approached (which
was seldom), he could easily and speedily regain his hiding-place.
"Hould aisy," said Pat, as they approached the fugitive; "don't be
afraid,--I have brought yous a frind."
"I hope you will not bring me too many friends," replied Hatchie, a
little disconcerted.
"Don't you know me?" said Henry, as he grasped the hand of Hatchie; "I
have just come from your mistress, and know your whole story."
"Not all," replied Hatchie; "you cannot know how much anxiety I have
endured. Miss Emily is not yet safe."
"But we can easily foil the villain's future designs."
"We will, at least, endeavor to do so."
"I believe I have seen you before; we were companions in the rescue."
"We were, and God bless you for the noble service you rendered my
mistress!"
"That service was all your own, my gallant fellow."
"You undervalue your own efforts. He who gets into the Mississippi
seldom gets out alive. Without your timely assistance, I tremble to
think of what might have been the end. My experience of the river
enabled me to bring her up; but without your aid at the moment it came I
do not think I could have saved her. But this is all past. Thank God,
she is yet safe, though another danger hovers over her."
"This foul conspiracy,--will they put it in execution to-night?"
"I heard the villain they call Vernon, an hour ago, engage a deck hand
to help him row the boat."
"Then there is indeed danger. I had thought Maxwell's wound would have
prevented it for a season."
"A mere scratch. I would your ball had found the villain's heart, if he
has one. But Vernon is the most dangerous man--a more accomplished
villain."
"Vernon," said Henry, musing; "he was Maxwell's second."
"Yes. That duel was a plot to murder you."
"How so?"
Hatchie explained the plan of Vernon, which had been rendered futile by
his precaution.
"The scoundrel! but how knew you this, and how happens it that I escaped
while he is wounded?" said Henry.
"I overheard the plot when I did the other. Vernon is a common robber.
He came into the hold to conceal a bag of money he had stolen."
"A bag of money!" interrupted Henry, his thoughts diverted from the
subject.
"Ay, a bag of money."
"Do you know where they hid it?"
"I do; but why do you ask?" and Hatchie was much pained to discover in
Henry what he mistook for a feeling of rapacity. He wanted and expected
the perfection of an angel in the man who sustained the relation of
lover and protector to his mistress.
"Because I have been robbed of all I had in the world," replied Henry,
seeing the shade upon Hatchie's brow.
"Indeed!" exclaimed the mulatto, his doubts removed, and pleased in
being able to restore his money.
"The money is undoubtedly mine. Your noble devotion to your mistress has
thus proved a fortunate thing for me. But about the pistols?"
Hatchie related the means he had used to derange Maxwell's plan.
"I shall never be able to repay the debt I owe you," said Henry, warmly,
as the mulatto finished his story.
"I did it for my mistress' sake. I learned that you were her friend."
"And she will bless you for the act."
"Now, what shall be done to insure her safety to night? for they will
attempt her abduction, I doubt not."
It was arranged that Henry should watch in the vicinity of Emily's
state-room, while Uncle Nathan, Hatchie and Pat Fegan, should occupy the
lower deck. Emily was not to be informed of the danger; it would
distress her to no purpose.
They had no doubt of their ability to protect her. Accustomed as Henry
was to danger, perhaps he did not fully appreciate that which was now
gathering around Emily. He felt that, in knowing the particulars of the
nefarious scheme, he was abundantly able, even single-handed, to prevent
its success.
Obtaining a screw-driver and a lantern from one of the engineers, he
succeeded in obtaining possession of his stolen bag of gold. On his
return to the cabin, he observed Vernon standing at the bar, and the
temptation to give his moral faculties a start could not be resisted.
Purchasing a dozen cigars, he remarked that he had no change, and coolly
pulled the bag of gold from his pocket. Vernon's astonishment and
consternation could not be entirely concealed, as he recognized the bag
he had securely deposited in the box with the dead. Henry took no notice
of him, though he heard him say, in a suppressed tone, "The devil is in
this boat!"
Henry sought his state-room, where he found Uncle Nathan impatiently
waiting to hear the result of the interview.
"There is danger," said Henry, "and we must be ready to do our duty
manfully."
"Good gracious! you don't say so!" exclaimed Uncle Nathan.
"We must watch to-night, and, if need be, fight!"
"How you talk! You don't think the feller with the sore arm will try to
do anything to-night?"
"I fear he will;" and Henry opened his trunk, and took therefrom a pair
of revolvers.
"Gracious! will there be any need of pistols? Couldn't you reason with
them?" exclaimed Uncle Nathan, who, as before hinted, had a great
repugnance to the use of deadly weapons.
"I am afraid they will not listen to reason," said Henry, smiling, in
spite of his anxiety. "If action is necessary, it must be prompt. I know
your heart, my good friend, and I trust your non-resistant notions will
not interfere with your duty. I must rely on your aid in this affair."
"Sartain. I will do all I can, if I die for it. But I think I can get
along very well without one of them 'ere things," said Uncle Nathan,
eying the pistols with distrust.
"Very well, I shall not urge you, though I think it would be prudent for
you to have one. As you go to your station, you will oblige me by giving
this one to the mulatto boy."
"Sartain, cap'n," replied Uncle Nathan, taking the pistol; "I an't
exactly a non-resistance man, only I hate to use pistols;--not that I'm
afeered on 'em; but to take a feller-cretur's life is a dreadful thing.
You know the New Testament says, 'Resist not evil,' and--"
"Yes, I remember; but now is the time to act, and not to preach. I shall
place myself near Miss Dumont's state-room, and your party will see that
the stern-boat is not disturbed."
"All right, cap'n, but do be careful about spilling blood!" said Uncle
Nathan, who did not like the cool, determined air with which Henry
handled his pistols.
"Be assured I will not wantonly take the life of even the most hardened
villain; but in defence of Miss Dumont I shall consider that the end
will justify the means."
Uncle Nathan went to his post, and Henry, muffling himself in a large
camp-cloak, seated himself near Emily's door. Accustomed as he was to
the perils and privations of the camp, the duty before him did not seem
difficult or irksome. To his chivalrous spirit there was a pleasure in
thus watching over an innocent being, while she slept, unconscious of
the danger that menaced her. Lighting his cigar, he resigned himself to
the dream of blissful anticipations, which relieved the monotony of the
scene.
Maxwell, in the seclusion of his state-room, had thoroughly digested the
plan for the abduction of Emily. Vernon had arranged the details, and
the lawyer's reflections suggested no material alteration. His wounded
arm was a hindrance, but time was too precious to admit of delay. The
Chalmetta was so tardy in her movements that Jaspar must soon overtake
them, and then the opportunity would be lost.
If he could get Emily into his power, and away from the influences which
now surrounded her, he doubted not he could induce her, by threats or
persuasion, to become his wife; then he would spring the trap upon
Jaspar, and the coveted object of his existence would be gained. He had
already forged a bill of sale of her person, and, thus provided with an
implement of coercion, he doubted not that success would crown his
efforts.
As the evening advanced, and the passengers had mostly retired for the
night, Maxwell and Vernon left the state-room, and went aft to examine
more particularly the means of descent to the lower deck. As they
approached Emily's state-room, they perceived Henry puffing away at his
second cigar. Had it been any other person, Maxwell would not have
devoted a thought to him. It was he with whom he had fought the
duel,--whom a mysterious providence seemed to protect. Was he there by
accident or design?
The two confederates passed round the gallery, and returned to the
cabin. A long hour they waited, and the cabin clock pointed to the hour
of twelve; still Henry had not changed his position. His cigar was
consumed, but there he sat like a statue, obstinately obstructing the
completion of Maxwell's designs. The confederates began to fear he had
some knowledge of their contemplated project. Yet how could this be? The
plan had been arranged in the hold of the steamer. It was impossible
that any one, even the men they had hired to row the boat, could know
their intentions. Vernon, who had seen the stolen bag of money
miraculously restored to its owner, who had seen two balls pass
harmlessly through him, was perfectly willing to believe that Henry
Carroll was the devil! But, devil or not, it was all the same to him.
It was already time to commence operations. Vernon was impatient to
begin; for, as he averred, he did not like to lose a whole night's sleep
in so small an affair. But nothing could be done while Henry retained
his present position, unless they silenced him by force; and he seemed
an ugly customer.
The Chalmetta pursued her way, stemming with difficulty, as it would
seem by her lazy pace, the current of the mighty river. She had just
passed Vicksburg. The night was dark and gloomy. Those bright, beautiful
moons, with which the panorama-mongers are wont to gild the eddying
current, and solemnize the scenery with a pale loveliness, were not in
the ascendant. Even the bright stars were hid by the thick clouds. The
darkness cast a sad gloom over the scene, which a few hours before had
been "leaping in light, and alive with its own beauty." The yellow bank
rose high on either side of the river, and formed a sombre wall, which
seemed to keep the sojourner on the tide a prisoner from the world
above.
Yet, deep as was the darkness, and perilous as was the navigation of the
river, the Chalmetta sluggishly pursued her upward course, shunning
sand-bars and snags which the eye could not see, and which the stranger
knew not of. Now she crept, like a thief at night, so closely beneath
the high bank that her tall chimneys almost swept the overhanging
branches; then, stealing from the treacherous shoal, she sped her way
through the middle of the vast waters, as if ashamed of her former
timidity. Here she shot through the narrow cut-off, and there left her
foaming surge in the centre of the broad expanse.
On board all was still, save the puffing blasts of steam, which, at each
stroke of the pistons, echoed through the woods and over the plains. The
cabin lights had long been extinguished, and, from a distance, nothing
could be seen of her but the huge blazing furnaces, and the red signal
lantern, which was suspended over the boiler deck. The firemen, just
roused from their dream of comfort, no more passed round the coarse
jest, no more whistled "Boatman, dance," but, like automata, threw the
fuel into the roaring furnaces. Occasionally, the startling note of the
great bell roused the deck-watch from his slumber, and he sang over
again the monotonous song that told the pilot how far his keel was from
the sands below. Again the bell pealed a heavy stroke, which indicated
that the steamer was in free water, and the leadsman settled himself for
another nap.
The passengers, save those whom we have before noted, were deep in the
arms of Morpheus, rejoicing, no doubt, in their dreams, over the many
tedious hours they thus annihilated.
Wakeful and watchful, Henry Carroll still kept his post. Ever present to
his mind was the fair being over whose safety his vigil was kept. Her
image, clothed in all the gorgeous fancies which the love-sick brain
conjures up, spoke in silver tones to his heart, and the melody of her
voice thrilled his soul. Descending from the dignity of the man, he
built childish air-castles, wherein he throned his idol, and in a few
fleeting moments squandered years of happiness by her side. The perils
of the past, the sternness of the present, the responsibilities of the
future, all faded away, and from their ashes rose the bright empress of
his soul.
This, we know, was all very foolish of him; but then it must be
remembered he was in love, and men in love can scarcely be called
accountable beings.
Thus he dreamed, and thus he trod the fairy ground of imagination, nor
heeded the creaking timbers and the increasing rapidity of the puffs
from the escape-pipe. To a man not intoxicated by the dream of young
love these facts would have indicated a great increase in the speed of
the boat; but he noticed them not.
By the motions of the Chalmetta it was plain that, though incapable of
accomplishing any wonderful feat in the attainment of speed, she had a
considerable amount of that commodity somewhat vulgarly termed "spunk."
As she passed the mouth of the Yazoo river, another steamer, apparently
of her own calibre, rounded gracefully into the channel, from a
wood-yard. This boat--the Flatfoot, No. 3--seemed, by her straining and
puffing, to throw the gauntlet to the Chalmetta; a challenge, real or
imaginary, which the latter made haste to accept,--or, rather, her
sleepy firemen did, for, without leave or license, they crammed her
furnaces to their utmost capacity. The effects of this movement were
soon perceptible in every part of the boat, for she creaked and groaned
like a ship in a gale. But the Flatfoot, No. 3, had the lead, and seemed
to gain upon her rival,--a circumstance which seemed to rouse the
lethargic firemen of the Chalmetta to the highest pitch of excitement,
for they packed the furnaces more closely still.
Maxwell saw, with much satisfaction, the prospect of a race; not that he
expected in this instance to enjoy the excitement which, with "fast
men," is consequent upon such an occasion. He hoped it might distract
the attention of the person who, by accident or design, opposed the
execution of his purpose. He had sent Vernon to the cabin to watch the
movements of Henry, while he remained upon the main deck, forward of the
furnaces, to encourage the firemen in their ambitious project of passing
the other boat. Several barrels of hams which lay upon the deck the
apparently excited attorney ordered the firemen to throw into the
furnaces, promising to screen them from blame by paying the owner double
their value. The firemen, not blessed with an undue amount of caution,
willingly obeyed the order, and soon the boilers hissed and groaned
under the extraordinary pressure. The engineers, roused from their
slumbers, and entering at once into the sport, secured the safety-valve
in its place by attaching to the lever double the usual weight.
Still the person whom Maxwell wished to lure from his post remained
immovable. A few pitch-barrels were now split up, and cast into the
furnaces, which so increased the pressure that the faithful safety-valve
refused longer to endure the curb placed upon the discharge of its
function. It was again secured, and the reckless firemen, urged on by
Maxwell and the engineers, still pressed the boat to its destruction.
The boilers, notwithstanding the tremendous pressure to which they were
subjected, still realized the expectations of the confident engineers,
and refused to be the agents of an "awful calamity." But all exertion
was of no avail; the Flatfoot, No. 3, whose tall chimneys vomited forth
a long trail of flame, showing that she, too, was hard pressed, was
rapidly increasing her distance. Still the firemen plied the furnaces,
and again the engineers added more weight to the lever of the
safety-valve. The boilers were evidently pressed to their utmost, the,
decks were hot, and her timbers creaked and snapped as though they would
drop out of her.
Hatchie had placed his party in the hold, one of which was on the
look-out at the hatchway. He saw the danger of the steamer; but all his
friends were in the safest places the boat afforded. It was an anxious
hour for him; but everybody was in peril, and there was no remedy.
Maxwell, whose excitement in the race was feigned, perceived that the
boat was in imminent danger. He had not intended to carry the excitement
quite so far. An explosion was not exactly the thing he desired. It
would not be sufficiently discriminating in its choice of victims. But
the firemen were too much excited to listen to reason; therefore he
proceeded, with Vernon, towards the extreme after part of the boat.
Passing round the gallery of the ladies' cabin, they perceived that
Henry had, at last, left his post. Such was indeed the case. Roused from
his abstraction by the terrible anticipation of an explosion, he had
gone forward to reason with the pilots on the recklessness of their
course in allowing the boat to be so hard pressed.
"Now is our time," said Maxwell, in a whisper.
"Here goes, then!" replied Vernon.
"Be careful that you do not injure her,--and bring her clothes."
"Ay, ay! Have the boat ready quick, for, if I mistake not, the sooner we
are out of this boat the better."
The ruffian approached the door of Emily's state-room, and was about to
open it, when, with a noise louder than the crashing of the thunderbolt,
the starboard boiler exploded, and the Chalmetta lay a shapeless wreck
upon the waters!