Fighting for the Right by Oliver Optic (good books for high schoolers .TXT) 📗

to see before we leave," replied the detective. "But we must begin our work, for we have no time to lose. I arranged with Captain Chantor to pick us up to-morrow night at about the point where we embarked in the boat. In the mean time he will sail around the islands, though the Chateaugay will not come near enough to be seen from the shore."

"What will you do with the boat while we are absent?"

"Leave it where it is."

While they were talking, an old negro came down the pier, and very politely saluted the strangers. He appeared to come from a small house a short 109 distance from the shore, and passed along to a boat which lay near the Eleuthera.

"Is that your boat?" asked the detective, calling him back.

"Yes, sir; I am a fisherman, though I've got the rheumatism, and don't go out much; but I have to go to-day, for we have nothing to eat in the house," replied the negro, whose language was very good.

"What is your name?"

"Joseph, sir."

"Do you speak French?"

"Oh, no, sir!" exclaimed Joseph. "I don't speak anything but plain English; but I used to work sometimes for a French gentleman that kept a boat at this pier, six or seven years ago."

"What was his came?" asked the detective, who had had a suspicion from the first that he knew the man, though he had changed a great deal as he grew older.

"Mounseer Gillflower," replied Joseph; "and he was very kind to me."

"I am a Frenchman, Joseph; and, if you don't want to go fishing, I will employ you to take care of my boat, and carry my valise to a hotel," continued 110 the detective, as he handed an English sovereign to him, for he had taken care to provide himself with a store of them in New York.

"Thank you, sir; but I can't change this piece," protested Joseph very sadly.

"I don't want you to change it; keep the whole of it."

"God bless you forever and ever, Mounseer!" exclaimed the fisherman. "I haven't had a sovereign before since Mounseer Gillflower was here. I am a very poor man, and I can't get any work on shore."

Probably, like the rest of his class, he was not inclined to work while he had any money. He promised to take good care of the Eleuthera, and he asked no troublesome questions. The detective gave his name, and ordered Christophe, calling him by his name, to bring the valises on shore. Then the Frenchman locked the door of the cuddy, for they left their overcoats there, as they had no use for them.

"To what hotel shall I carry the valises?" asked Joseph.

"To the Atlantic; that will be the most convenient for us. Do you know anything about these vessels in the harbor, Joseph?"

111 "Not much, Mounseer Roobump; but they say the two steamers near the island are going to run the blockade into the States; but I don't know. They say a Confederate man-of-war came into St. George's harbor yesterday; but I haven't seen her, and I don't know whether it's true or not."

"What is her name?" asked the detective, who from the beginning had broken up his English, and imparted a strong French accent to it.

"I did not hear any one mention her name, Mounseer. That vessel this side of the island is the mail steamer from New York; she got in yesterday," continued Joseph.

"That is important; if the Dornoch is the Confederate man-of-war that arrived at St. George's yesterday, this steamer brought letters from Davis to her captain," said the Frenchman to Christy, in French.

"But Davis could not have learned that the Ionian had been captured before the mail steamer left New York," added Christy, in the same language.

"No matter for that, Christophe. I did not resign my place at Davis's warehouse till the morning we sailed; and I have his letter to the captain 112 of the Dornoch with my other papers on board of the Chateaugay, and I know that was the only letter written to him. As he has no information in regard to the Ionian, he will not wait for her."

"I remember; you showed me the letter."

Joseph listened with a show of wonder on his face to this conversation which he could not understand. The detective directed him to carry the two valises to the hotel named; but Christy interposed in French, and insisted that it would look better for him to carry his own valise, and the point was yielded. The Atlantic Hotel was on Front Street, the harbor being on one side of it. A couple of rooms were assigned to them, one of them quite small, which was taken by Christy, in order to keep up appearances.

M. Rubempré registered his name, putting "and servant" after it, Paris, and spoke even worse English than he had used to Joseph. Breakfast had been ordered, but Christy, being only a servant, had to take his meal at a side table. The detective was not dressed like a gentleman, and the landlord seemed to have some doubts about his ability to pay his bills, though he had baggage. He was not treated with anything like deference, 113 and he saw the difficulty. After breakfast he took a handful of English gold from his pocket, and asked the landlord to change one of the coins for smaller money. Mine host bowed low to him after this exhibition.

"I want to see the American consul," said M. Rubempré, in his own language.

"I will go with you, but I think I will not see him, for he may take it into his head that I am not a Frenchman," added Christy.

"You can come with me, and stay outside."

When they reached the consulate, which was on the same street as the hotel, they found about a dozen sailors in front of the building. They were a very rough and hard-looking set of men. They appeared to be considerably excited about something, and to be bent on violence in some direction; but the strangers could make nothing of the talk they heard, though "the bloody spy" was an expression frequently used.

114 CHAPTER X 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, 115 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, 116 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.

"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 117 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 118 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 119 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