IMPORTANT INFORMATION OBTAINED
Christy walked behind the detective in his capacity as servant. It was
soon evident to them that the ruffians gathered in the street meant
mischief. On the staff over their heads floated the flag of the United
States. Though Mr. Gilfleur was an alien, his companion was not. Of
course he knew that the islands were the resort of blockade-runners,
that they obtained their supplies from the two towns of Hamilton and St.
George's. This fact seemed to explain the occasion of the disturbance in
this particular locality.
"What does all this mean, Christophe?" asked M. Rubempré, falling back
to join Christy at the door of the consulate.
"I should judge that these ruffians intended to do violence to the
American consul," replied Christy. "I heard in New York that he was
faithful in the discharge of his duty to his government, and doubtless
he has excited the indignation of these ruffians by his fidelity. His
principal business is to follow up the enforcement of the neutrality
laws, which compels him to watch these blockade-runners, and vessels of
war intended for the Confederate States."
"That was my own conclusion," added the Frenchman, speaking his own
language, as usual. "I should say that his position is not a pleasant
one."
"Here comes the bloody spy!" shouted several of the ruffians.
Looking down the street, they saw a dignified-looking gentleman
approaching, whom they supposed to be the consul, Mr. Alwayn. He did not
seem to be alarmed at the demonstration in front of his office. The
disturbers of the peace fell back as he advanced, and he reached the
door where the detective and his companion were standing without being
attacked. The mob, now considerably increased in numbers, though
probably more than a majority, as usual, were merely spectators, hooted
violently at the representative of the United States.
The gentleman reached the door of his office, and by this time the
ruffians seemed to realize that simple hooting did no harm, and they
rushed forward with more serious intentions. One of them laid violent
hands on the consul, seizing him by the back of his coat collar, and
attempting to pull him over backwards. Christy felt that he was under
the flag of his country, and his blood boiled with indignation; and,
rash as was the act, he planted a heavy blow with his fist under the ear
of the assailant, which sent him reeling back among his companions.
"No revolvers, Christophe!" said the detective earnestly, as he placed
himself by the side of the young man.
Christy's revolver was in his hip-pocket, where he usually carried it,
and the detective feared he might use it, for both of them could hardly
withstand the pressure upon them; and the firing of a single shot would
have roused the passions of the mob, and led to no little bloodshed.
M. Rubempré was entirely cool and self-possessed, which could hardly be
said of the young naval officer.
[Illustration:
"He planted a heavy blow with his fist under the ear of his
assailant." Page 116.]
By this time Mr. Alwayn had opened the front door of the office, and
gone in. The detective backed in after him, and then pushed Christy in
after the consul. The ruffians saw that they were losing their game, and
they rushed upon the door. One of them crowded his way in, but M.
Rubempré, in a very quiet way, delivered a blow on the end of the
assailant's nose, which caused him to retreat, with the red fluid
spurting from the injured member.
Taking his place, two others pushed forward, and aimed various blows at
the two defenders of the position; but both of them were skilled in this
sort of play, and warded off the strokes, delivering telling blows in
the faces of the enemy. Mr. Alwayn had partially closed the door; but he
was not so cowardly as to shut out his two volunteer defenders. As soon
as they understood his object, they backed in at the door, dispersing
the ruffians with well-directed blows, and the consul closed and locked
the door. Before any further mischief could be done, the police came and
dispersed the rioters. The consul fared better on this occasion than on
several others, in one of which he was quite seriously injured.
As soon as order was restored, Mr. Alwayn conducted his defenders to his
office, where he thanked them heartily for the service they had rendered
him. During the _mélee_ M. Rubempré had tried to address the ruffians in
broken French, for he did not for a moment forget his assumed character.
He used the same "pigeon-talk" to the consul, and Christy, in the little
he said, adopted the same dialect.
"I see you are not Americans, my friends," said the official.
"No, saire; we are some Frenchmen," replied the detective, spreading out
his two hands in a French gesture, and bowing very politely.
"Being Frenchmen, I am not a little surprised that you should have
undertaken to defend me from this assault," added Mr. Alwayn.
"Ze Frenchman like, wat was this you call him, ze fair play; and ve
could not prevent to put some fingers in tose pies. Ver glad you was not
have the head broke," replied M. Rubempré, with another native flourish.
"_Mais_, wat for de _canaille_ make ze war on you, saire? You was
certainment un gentleman ver respectable."
Mr. Alwayn explained why he had incurred the hostility of the
blockade-runners and their adherents, for he was sometimes compelled to
protest against what he regarded as breaches of neutrality, and was
obliged in the discharge of his duty to look after these people very
closely, so that he was regarded as a spy.
"Oh! it was ze blockheads, was it?" exclaimed the Frenchman.
"Hardly the blockheads," replied the consul, laughing at the blunder of
the foreigner. "It is the blockade-runners that make the trouble."
"Blockade-runners! _Merci._ Was there much blockadeers here in ze
islands?" asked M. Rubempré, as though he was in total ignorance of the
entire business of breaking the blockade.
"Thousands of them come here, for this is about the nearest neutral port
to Wilmington, where many of this sort of craft run in."
"Wilmington was in Delaware, where I have seen him on ze map."
"No, sir; this Wilmington is in North Carolina. If you look out on the
waters of the harbor, half the vessels you see there are
blockade-runners," added the consul. "And there are more of them at St.
George's. It was only yesterday that a steamer I believe to be intended
for a man-of-war for the Confederacy came into the port of St. George's,
and I have been much occupied with her affairs, which is probably the
reason for this attempt to assault me."
"Ze _man_-of-war," repeated the Frenchman. "Ze war, _c'est la guerre_;
_mais_ wat was ze man?"
"She is a vessel used for war purposes."
"_She!_ She is a woman; and I think that steamer was a woman-of-war."
The consul laughed heartily, but insisted upon the feminine designation
of the steamer.
"What you call ze name of ze man-of-war?" asked M. Rubempré, putting on
a very puzzled expression of countenance.
"The Dornoch," replied Mr. Alwayn.
"The D'Ornoch," added the detective. "How you write him--like zis?" and
he wrote it on a piece of paper by his own method.
"Not exactly," replied the consul, writing it as given in English.
"How long ze Dornoch will she stop in zat port?" asked the Frenchman,
in a very indifferent tone, as though the answer was not of the least
consequence to him.
"Not long; I heard it stated in St. George's that she would get her
supplies and cargo on board to-day and to-morrow, and will sail before
dark to-morrow night," replied Mr. Alwayn. "The government here ought
not to allow her to remain even as long as that, for she is plainly
intended for a Confederate cruiser, and my men inform me that she has
six great guns, and fifty men."
M. Rubempré obtained all the information the consul was able to give
him, and much of it was of great importance. The official was under
obligations to the two strangers, and he seemed not to suspect that
either of them was an American, much less a naval officer. They took
their leave of him in the politest manner possible, and were shown to
the door by the consul.
"I am not quite sure that all his information is correct, and we must
investigate for ourselves," said the detective when they were in the
street. "But this affray is bad for us, and I was very sorry when you
interfered, Christophe."
"You did not expect to see me fold my arms when a representative of the
United States, and under our flag, was attacked by a lot of ruffians?"
demanded Christy, rather warmly, though he spoke in French.
"I know you could not help it, and I did my best to aid you," added M.
Rubempré. "I only mean that it was unfortunate for us, for when we go
about on the islands, we may be recognized by some of that mob. We must
go back to the hotel."
In a few minutes more they were at the Atlantic, where the Frenchman,
with his usual flourish, ordered a carriage to be ready in half an hour,
adding that he was about to dress for some visits he was to make in St.
George's. They went to their rooms, and each of them changed his dress,
coming out in black suits. The master wore a frock coat, but the servant
was dressed in a "claw-hammer," and looked like a first-class waiter.
It is about a two hours' ride over to St. George's, and Christy enjoyed
the excursion as much as though there had not been a blockade-runner in
the world. The town, with even its principal street not more than ten
feet wide, reminded him of some of the quaint old cities of Europe he
had visited with his father a few years before. But M. Rubempré was bent
on business, and the delightful scenery was an old story to him. They
took a boat at a pier, and for an hour a negro pulled them about the
harbor. There were quite a number of steamers in the port, long, low,
and rakish craft, built expressly for speed, and some of them must have
been knocked to pieces by the blockaders before the lapse of many weeks,
though a considerable proportion of them succeeded in delivering their
cargoes at Wilmington or other places.
The visitors looked them over with the greatest interest. They even went
on board of a couple of them, the detective pretending that he was
looking for a passage to some port in the South from which he could
reach Mobile, where his brother was in the Confederate army. No one
could doubt that he was a Frenchman, and on one of them the captain
spoke French, though very badly. M. Rubempré's good clothes secured the
respect and confidence of those he encountered, and most of the officers
freely told him where they were bound, and talked with great gusto of
the business in which they were engaged. But none of them could
guarantee him a safe passage to any port on the blockaded coast.
The excursion in the boat was continued, for the visitors had not yet
seen the steamer they were the most anxious to examine. The detective
would not inquire about this steamer, fearful that it might be reported
by the negro at the oars, and excite suspicion. But at last, near the
entrance to the harbor, the boatman pointed out the Dornoch, and told
them all he knew about her. There were several lighters alongside,
discharging coal and other cargo into her.
M. Rubempré, in his broken English, asked permission to go on deck, and
it was promptly accorded to him. He was very polite to the officers, and
they treated him with proper consideration. There were no guns in sight,
and the steamer looked like a merchantman; but if she had been searched,
her armament would have been found in the hold. The visitor again
repeated his desire to obtain a passage to the South; and this request
seemed to satisfy the first officer with whom he talked. He was informed
that the steamer would sail about five on the afternoon of the next day,
and he must be on board at that time, if he wished to go in the vessel.
He learned many particulars in regard to her.