Hatchie, the Guardian Slave Part 39

CHAPTER XXIII.

"_Jaffier_. O, Belvidera!

_Belvidera_. Why was I last night delivered to a villain?

_Jaffier_. Ha! a villain?

_Belvidera_. Yes, to a villain!"

OTWAY.

Agreeably to the arrangement of the previous night, Emily was on board of the "Montezuma," prepared to commence her journey to Bellevue. While De Guy conducted Emily to the ladies' cabin, Hatchie was getting her few articles of baggage on board, and the boat was fairly under weigh without the faithful mulatto's having had a sight of the new protector of Emily. The attorney congratulated himself on this circ.u.mstance; his mind had thus been released from the pressure of a most painful anxiety.

His plan was now accomplished.

But the meeting could not be much longer deferred. De Guy, however, now that they were free from the friends of Emily, no longer dreaded it.

The dinner hour arrived, and Hatchie was standing by the side of his mistress on the gallery, when De Guy approached and announced the fact.

His voice startled Hatchie. It was the same squeaking tone he had heard at Bellevue on the night of his escape. He turned to look upon the speaker, and was confounded to behold the very person who had plotted with Jaspar on that memorable night! With a presence of mind which never deserted him, he held his peace, resolved not to frighten his mistress by exposing the fact.

Hatchie stood lost in thought on the gallery long after De Guy had conducted his mistress to the dinner-table. The mulatto was in a quandary,--a worse quandary than the congressional hero of Kentucky has described in any of his thousand relations of hair-breadth escapes. His mistress was fairly committed to her new destiny, and how could he extricate her?

He resolved to do the only thing he possibly could do,--to watch unceasingly, to be ever ready to defend his mistress in case of necessity. The papers which De Guy had brought from Bellevue, and which he heard described by the doctor, did much to a.s.sure him that no evil was intended towards her; but the man who had been a villain once was, in his opinion, exceedingly apt to be so again.

Emily was ill at ease during the pa.s.sage; not that she felt unsafe, or dreaded treachery, but something seemed to whisper that evil _might_ be near her. An undefined sensation of doubt seemed to beset her path, and urge upon her the unpleasant necessity of extreme caution. She was conscious of being engaged in a good work. She had forgiven her great enemy, and was now on her way to smooth his dying pillow. There was something lofty and beautiful in the thought, and she derived much consolation from it.

De Guy rarely intruded himself upon her notice during the pa.s.sage. At meal-hours he was scrupulously polite and attentive, but he was as cold and formal as she could desire. She never ventured upon the promenade deck, unless her faithful Hatchie was near.

The mulatto, with all his watchfulness, was unable to discover any indications of treachery on the part of De Guy, though an apparently confidential conversation with the captain of the steamer, on the night before their arrival at New Orleans, had rather an unfavorable appearance.

It was late at night when the Montezuma arrived at New Orleans. The steamer quietly took her berth at the levee, so that few of the pa.s.sengers took any notice of their arrival, and contentedly turned over in their berths to wait the advent of the coming day.

Hatchie, who occupied a room near the boiler deck, had been awakened by the confusion of making fast the steamer. His watchful vigil over the safety of his mistress did not permit him to slumber while the possibility of danger existed. He had, therefore, risen; but scarcely had he completed his dress, when the door of his room was suddenly opened, and himself violently seized by two stout men. The attack had been so sudden, and the movements of the a.s.sailants so well directed, that resistance was hopeless. Before he fully realized the presence of his foes, his hands were pinioned behind him. In this condition, without knowing why or by whom he was a.s.sailed, he was hurried away to the calaboose.

At an early hour in the morning carriages and drays began to a.s.semble on the levee, and all the noise and bustle of landing pa.s.sengers, baggage and freight, commenced.

Emily Dumont, as soon as it was fairly light, rose from her couch, and made her preparations to leave the steamer. Fully equipped for her journey to Bellevue, she entered the cabin, where De Guy soon presented himself.

"Where is Hatchie?" was the first question she asked; for Hatchie had always been on the spot whenever and wherever she needed his services.

"I have taken the liberty to send him up to the St. Charles with your luggage. You will, of course, breakfast there," said the attorney, blandly.

"Such was not my intention," replied she, as a cold tremor--she knew not why--agitated her.

"I am sorry to have mistaken your purpose; the ride to Bellevue is a long one to take without any refreshment."

"I mind it not; my haste is too great to admit of any delay."

"I sent by your servant to order an early breakfast, and a carriage at seven o'clock."

"Very well, I will conform to the arrangement you have made," replied Emily, with a dissatisfied air.

A carriage was called from the ma.s.s which had congregated, whose drivers were not a whit behind those of the metropolitan city in earnest perseverance; and De Guy a.s.sisted her into it, seating himself at a respectful distance on the forward seat.

Now, the act of engaging a cab or a carriage is of itself quite an easy matter; but we question whether pa.s.sengers are generally as well suited as in the present instance. Without troubling the worthy Mr. De Guy with any foolish queries as to where he should drive them, the Jehu mounted his box, and conducted his team apparently to the entire satisfaction of his fare. It may be that the intelligent driver had a way of divining the wishes of his customers; or it may be that De Guy, in deference to any supposed repugnance to business matters on the part of his companion, had previously discussed this topic. Without any design of prejudicing the reader's mind in favor of the latter supposition, we confess our inclination to accept it as correct.

Emily vainly attempted to a.s.sure herself that her companion was conducting her in good faith to the home of her early years. An undefined feeling of insecurity was painfully besetting her, whichever way she turned. She considered and reconsidered the evidences he had brought to Cottage Island of the truth of his own statements, and of his own trustworthiness. It was all in vain. Could those papers have been forgeries? It was a terrible thought to her.

The carriage stopped, and the attorney invited her to alight.

Change--anything, was a relief to the painful sensations which had almost overpowered her, and without reflection she did so. Her faculties were so confused she did not notice that it was not the private entrance of the St. Charles. She took everything for granted, and accepted the offered arm of De Guy. She crossed the broad side-walk, and, raising her eyes, was overwhelmed by seeing at the side of the door she was about to enter the sign of "_Anthony Marwell, Attorney and Counsellor at Law_."

"Please to walk up stairs," squeaked the attorney, drawing her after him to the inside of the door, which he immediately closed and bolted.

"Not a step further, sir!" said she, with as much firmness as she could command. "What means this? Am I again betrayed?"

"Nay, nay, madam, walk up quietly," said De Guy, in a soothing tone, as he applied a little gentle force to the arm he held.

"Unhand me, sir!" screamed Emily, as loud as her agitated condition would permit.

But De Guy heeded her not; and, without condescending to utter another word, he took her up like a child, and bore her up the stairs to Maxwell's office. Turning the key to prevent interruption, he opened the lawyer's private apartment in the rear, and placed the fainting girl upon the bed, and retired.

Unlocking the office door, he was confronted by an old negress, who had charge of the sweeping and cleaning department of the building.

"Sar! what's all dis about?" screamed she, in no gentle tone; for the colored lady had witnessed De Guy's achievement from the stair-case above.

"Hush, Dido--"

"Sar! who are you dat come inter Ma.s.sa Maxwell's room widout no leave?"

"Never mind who I am, Dido. There is a lady in the bedroom, by whom Mr.

Maxwell sets his life--do you hear?--sets his life. She has fainted, and you must take care of her,"--and De Guy slipped a half-eagle into the negress' hands.

"Dat alters de case," said the black lady, eying the money with much satisfaction. "Ma.s.sa Maxwell's a sly dog. I take good care ob de lady--not de fus time, nuder."

"Don't let her get away; take good care of her, and you shall have half a dozen just such pieces."

"Never fear, Ma.s.sa, I's use to de business."

De Guy left the building, satisfied, it would seem, of the negress'

fidelity.

CHAPTER XXIV.

"_Lieut_. Forgive me, sir, what I'm compelled t' obey: An order for your close confinement.

"_King H_. Whence comes it, good lieutenant?

"_Lieut_. Sir, from the Duke of Gloster.