Hatchie, the Guardian Slave Part 20

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 a.s.sured 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, m.u.f.fling 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 antic.i.p.ations, 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 pa.s.sengers 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 pa.s.sed 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 b.a.l.l.s pa.s.s 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 pa.s.sed 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 pa.s.sed round the coa.r.s.e 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 pa.s.sengers, 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 accomplis.h.i.+ng any wonderful feat in the attainment of speed, she had a considerable amount of that commodity somewhat vulgarly termed "s.p.u.n.k."

As she pa.s.sed 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 s.h.i.+p in a gale. But the Flatfoot, No. 3, had the lead, and seemed to gain upon her rival,--a circ.u.mstance 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 pa.s.sing 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.

Pa.s.sing 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 antic.i.p.ation 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 cras.h.i.+ng of the thunderbolt, the starboard boiler exploded, and the Chalmetta lay a shapeless wreck upon the waters!

CHAPTER XIV.

"False world, thou ly'st; thou canst not lend The least delight; Thy favors cannot gain a friend, They are so slight." FRANCIS QUARLES.

The traveller on the Mississippi observes with interest the innumerable islands which dot the river, and relieve the monotony of the scenery.

These islands are, for the most part, covered with a luxurious growth of cotton-wood trees. They have generally been formed by what are technically called cut-offs, or new channels, from the main land. The mighty torrent, scorning its own well-beaten track, ploughs a way through the country, and returns to its channel miles below, opening at once a new path for the voyager upon its tide. The portion of land thus separated from the main sh.o.r.e is often subdivided by the action of the waters into several smaller islands. These islets are, however, oftener seen in isolated positions, varying in area from a few square rods to several acres. A remarkable feature of these islands is their _locomotive_ powers,--for, strange as it may seem, they annually take a step down stream! Observation has shown a change of position almost incredible.

The river, continually wearing upon the up-river side of the island, washes the sands and soil to the lower side. Thus, the situation of the island is actually changed. The fact is clearly shown by the singular configuration of the ma.s.s of trees growing upon them. The wood on the upstream side of the island is of the largest size; while that on the down-stream side begins at the mere shrub, and, by a regular gradation in height, like a pair of stairs, increases to the alt.i.tude of the full-grown tree. Each successive year places a new layer of soil upon the lower side, in which the young tree takes root; and the growth of each year is distinctly visible to the traveller as he ascends the river.

On one of these islands, above Vicksburg, was located a neat cottage.

The island differed in many respects from others. Its area might have been eight or ten acres. On one side of it was a narrow, but deep stream, which, entering from the broad river, described a semi circle, and returned its waters on the same side. On three sides, except at the mouths of the little stream, the island was rendered inaccessible by the high banks, while on the fourth side the shrubs grew so luxuriantly as to be impervious, save to the most resolute visitor. From the high banks which walled it in the surface of the island sloped gradually towards a common centre, through which rushed the little stream.

This little island had probably been a part of the main land; the river had forced its way through a valley, and, by degrees, had worn down the high land on either side, till they formed the precipices which now frowned on the visitor. The little stream had, perhaps, once been a meandering rivulet,--part of one which emptied into the river on the opposite side.