AN AFFRAY IN NASSAU
Christy's first care was to look about among the guests of the hotel
gathered on the piazza, in order to ascertain if there was any person
there whom he had ever met before. Very few of them were what could be
classed as genteel people, and some of them were such people as one
would not expect to see at a first-class hotel. They were dressed in
seaman's garments for the most part, though not as common sailors; and
doubtless many of them were commanders or officers of the vessels in the
harbor.
Putting on an indifferent air he walked about the veranda, observing
every person he encountered, as well as those who were seated in groups,
engaged in rather noisy conversation, intermixed with a great deal of
profanity. He breathed easier when he had made the circuit of the
piazzas on the first floor, though there were two others on the stories
above it, for he found no one he could identify as a person he had seen
before.
There were quite a number of steamers in the harbor, or in that part of
it which lies inside of the bar and in front of the town, with at least
three times as many sailing craft. No doubt many of the latter, as well
as the former, had brought cargoes of cotton from Confederate ports; for
though the blockade was regarded as effective, and treated as such by
foreign nations, many small vessels contrived to escape from obscure
harbors on the Southern coast. Christy had been concerned in the capture
of a considerable number of such. On the wharves were stacks of cotton
which had been landed from these vessels, and several of them were
engaged in transferring it to small steamers, for large ones were unable
to cross the bar. But the visitors had no business with the vessels thus
engaged, for they had completed their voyages, and were exempt from
capture.
"I have taken not a few prisoners in or off Southern ports, and it would
not greatly surprise me if I should meet some one I had met before,"
said Christy, in French, as he resumed his seat by the side of the
detective.
"Then I fear that your coming with me was a mistake," replied M.
Rubempré. "You must be extremely cautious, not only for your own
protection, but because you may compromise me, and cause me to fail in
the accomplishment of my mission here."
"I should be sorry to interfere with your work, and I think we had
better separate," replied Christy, very much disturbed at the suggestion
of his friend. "If I can do no good, I certainly do not wish to do any
harm."
"No, my friend; I cannot desert you, especially if you are in peril,"
protested the detective. "How could I ever look your father in the face
if I permitted you to get into trouble here?"
"I don't think I shall get into trouble, even if I am recognized by some
person. This is not Confederate territory, though it looks very much
like it; for all the people around us are talking secession, and the
inhabitants sympathize with the South to the fullest extent. I could not
be captured and sent to a Confederate State, or be subjected to any
violence, for the authorities would not permit anything of the kind,"
Christy argued with energy.
"I am not so sure of that."
"I have no doubt in regard to my own safety; but if you appear to be
connected with me in any manner, and I were identified as a United
States naval officer, of course it would ruin your enterprise. For this
reason I insist that we separate, and I will take a room at another
hotel."
Christy was determined, and in the end the detective had to yield in
substance to him, though it was agreed, for reasons that seemed to be
good, that M. Rubempré should change his hotel. They arranged to meet
after dark in the grounds in the rear of the Royal Victoria, to consult
in regard to the future.
"In the mean time I will do what I can to obtain information in regard
to steamers bound to Confederate ports. I will still claim to be a
Frenchman, and talk pigeon English," continued Christy.
"If any misfortune happens to you, Christophe, I shall blame myself for
it," added the Frenchman.
"You cannot fairly do that, for it will not be through any fault of
yours. If I fail to meet you as agreed, you can look for me. If you
cannot find me, you must leave at the time agreed upon with Captain
Chantor, whether I go with you or not. But I have no idea that anything
will happen to prevent me from returning to the ship with you."
"I could not leave without you," said the detective moodily.
"If you do not, you will be likely to get the Chateaugay into trouble;
for if we did not return to her, she would probably come into this port
after us."
"I will consider the matter before I assent to it," returned M.
Rubempré, rising from his chair.
Christy was fully resolved not to endanger the mission of his companion,
and he left the hotel. He walked slowly down Parliament to Bay Street,
which is the principal business avenue of the town, running parallel to
the shore. It was lined with shops, saloons, and small hotels on one
side, and with the market and wharves on the other. He desired to see
what he could of the place, and pick up all the information that would
be serviceable to an officer of the navy.
[Illustration:
"His blood was boiling with indignation at the unprovoked assault."
Page 207.]
As he passed a drinking-saloon a torrent of loud talk, spiced with
oaths, flowed out from the place. Before he had fairly passed the door a
violent hand was laid upon him, seizing him by the collar with no gentle
grasp. The ruffian had fallen upon him from the rear, and he could not
see who it was that assaulted him. The man attempted to drag him into
the saloon; but he was evidently considerably affected by his potations
in the place, and his legs were somewhat tangled up by the condition of
his brain.
Christy attempted, by a vigorous movement, to shake off his assailant;
but the fellow held on, and he found it impossible to detach his grasp.
His blood was boiling with indignation at the unprovoked assault, and
his two fists were clinched so tight that iron could hardly have been
harder and tougher. He levelled a blow at the head of the ruffian, who
still kept in his rear, and delivered it with all the power of his
strong arm.
The assailant reeled, and released his hold, for his head must have
whirled around like a top under the crashing blow it had sustained.
Christy turned so that he could see the ruffian. He was a stalwart
fellow, at least fifty pounds heavier than the young lieutenant. His
nose was terribly disfigured, not by the blow of the young officer, for,
twisted as it was, there was no sign of a fresh wound upon it. One
glance was enough to satisfy Christy as to the identity of the ruffian.
It was Captain Flanger, whose steamer Christy had captured, with a boat
expedition sent out from the Bronx, in St. Andrew's Bay. He was a
prisoner, but had escaped, and invaded the cabin of the Bronx, where he
attempted to make Christy sign an order which would have resulted in
delivering the steamer to the enemy. The heroic young commander,
preferring death to dishonor, had refused to sign the order. The affair
had culminated in a sort of duel in the cabin, in which Christy, aided
by his faithful steward, had hit Flanger in the nose with his revolver.
The ruffian had sworn to be revenged at the time, and he seemed to have
chosen the present occasion to wreak his vengeance upon the destroyer of
his nasal member. The blow his victim had struck was a set-back to him;
but he presently recovered the balance of his head which the shock had
upset. It was plain enough that he had not given up the battle, for he
had drawn back with the evident intention of using his clinched fists
upon his adversary.
"Hit him again, Flanger!" shouted one of the brutal occupants of the
saloon, who now filled the doorway.
The affair was rapidly becoming serious, and Christy was debating with
himself whether or not he should draw a revolver he carried in his
pocket; but he was cool enough to realize that he was on neutral ground,
and that it would be very imprudent to be the first to resort to deadly
weapons. He could not run away, for his self-respect would not permit
him to do so. He braced himself up to meet the onslaught of the ruffian.
Flanger charged upon him, and attempted to plant a blow with his fist in
the face of his intended victim; but the young officer parried it, and
was about to follow up the movement with a blow, when Monsieur Rubempré
rushed in between them, struck the assailant such a blow that he went
over backwards. In fact, the man was too much intoxicated to stand
without considerable difficulty.
At this moment a couple of colored policemen rushed in between the
combatants. The tipplers in the saloon picked up their comrade, and
stood him on his feet. The Nassau officers doubtless had a great deal of
this sort of quarrelling, for drinking strong liquors was the principal
occupation of the officers and crews of the blockade-runners while in
port and on shore.
"What is all this about? Who began this quarrel?" demanded one of them,
as he looked from one party to the other in the battle.
"I was passing the door of this saloon, and did not even look into it,
when that man rushed upon me, and seized me by the collar," replied
Christy. "I tried to shake him off, but I could not, and then I struck
him in the side of the head."
"Look here, you nigger!" shouted Captain Flanger. "It's none of your
business who began it."
"I shall arrest you for a breach of the peace," said the policeman.
"I don't reckon you will. Do you see my nose? Look at it! Don't you see
that it is knocked into a cocked hat?" said Flanger fiercely.
"I see it is; but what has that to do with this matter?" asked the negro
officer.
"That man shot my nose off!" roared Flanger. "I am going to kill him for
it, if it costs me my head!"
"You shall not kill him here," protested the guardian of the peace. "You
have been drinking too much, sir, and you must go with me and get
sobered off."
The two policemen walked up to him with the intention of arresting him;
but he showed fight. He was too tipsy to make an effectual resistance.
His companions in the saloon huddled around him, and endeavored to
compel the policemen to let go their hold of him; but they held on to
their prisoner till two more officers came, and Flanger was dragged out
into the street, and then marched to the jail.
Christy was very much surprised that nothing was said to him by the
officers about the affair in which he had been one of the principal
actors. He had expected to be summoned as a witness against the prisoner
they had taken, but not a word was said to him. He looked about to see
if the detective was in sight, but he had disappeared.
"That was an ugly-looking man," said a gentleman in the street, after
the carousers had returned to the saloon. "I hope he has not injured
you."
"Not at all, sir; he was too drunk to do all he could have done if he
had been in full possession of his faculties, for he is a much heavier
person than I am," replied Christy. "Why was I not summoned as a witness
at his examination?"
"Oh, bless you, sir! they will not examine or try him; they will sober
him off, and then discharge him. He is the captain of that little
steamer near the public wharf. She is called the Snapper, and will sail
for the States on the high tide at five o'clock."
"Do you know to what port she is bound?" asked Christy.
"Mobile."
The young officer walked down to the public wharf to see the Snapper.