CHAPTER XXX.
THE SUPPRESSED DOCUMENT.
Augustus Horton left the plantation at daybreak on the morning after the scene between himself and Cora Leslie.
He knew that he had the law on his side, and that Gilbert Margrave might be made to pay dearly for his abduction of the Octoroon.
But what if Gilbert and Cora should escape, and make their way to the Free States of America?
He was almost mad with fury as this thought arose to his brain. Immediately upon his arrival in New Orleans, he dispatched a messenger for his confederate and evil counselor, Silas Craig, and at nine o'clock the two men were seated opposite to each other at a well furnished breakfast table.
Augustus was terrified at beholding the change which the last twelve hours had wrought in the appearance of the attorney.
His face was almost ghastly in its corpse-like hue; purple circles surrounded his bloodshot eyes, and his lips were black and dry, like those of a sufferer in the worst stage of fever.
Throughout the weary night he had never ceased to pace up and down the narrow space in his office, pondering upon his interview with Pauline Corsi.
The whole scaffolding of his life had fallen away, leaving him well-nigh crushed amongst the ruins.
The dark labyrinth of crime was closing upon his steps, and he knew not the end which lay before him.
But Augustus Horton was ignorant of the darker crimes which had left their foul stain upon the lawyer's life. He knew him to be an unscrupulous rogue, and associated with him because he was useful.
The first step taken by the two men was to communicate with the police, informing them of the abduction of Cora, and offering a large reward for the apprehension of the fugitives.
This done, Silas Craig told his employer of the advertisement which had been inserted in that day's paper, the advertisement which cleared the character of Paul Lisimon, and described the whole affair of the robbery as a practical joke.
His rage and mortification knew no bounds. He declared that he had been fooled, duped, played with, by Silas Craig; and demanded what right the lawyer had to serve him in this manner.
"Scoundrel!" he said; "you have been bribed by Camillia Moraquitos; that Spanish woman has paid you to betray me."
"You have no need to call hard names, Mr. Horton," answered Silas; "I have been paid by no one. It was necessary to my own welfare to do this; and I have done it. Think yourself lucky that I did not betray you, and let the worthy citizens of New Orleans know your share in the transaction."
Augustus Horton's cheeks and brow flushed purple with suppressed rage. He felt that he was in the attorney's power; and that a word from Silas might blast his name forever.
"Come," he said; "the business is done, it seems; it is therefore too late to talk of it. My first task must be to find this Octoroon and her lover."
"True. Every moment is of value to us if we are not to let them escape."
"Escape!" cried Augustus, furiously; "I would sooner perish in the attempt to overtake them."
"Come, then! the St. Louis packet starts in ten minutes from this time. They may take that opportunity of leaving the city."
The two men hurried to the quay; but they were too late; the steamer had started half an hour earlier than the time mentioned by Silas Craig.
They made inquiries of the clerks about the pier, but no one seemed able to give them any information.
As they were leaving the quay, Silas Craig uttered an exclamation of astonishment on recognizing the lanky figure of William Bowen, who was advancing toward them at a leisurely pace.
The overseer wore a broad-brimmed straw hat, and the light linen coat and trousers customary throughout Louisiana.
"You here, William?" exclaimed Silas, with surprise; "I thought you were at Iberville, where I left you in charge of my plantation."
Bowen laughed, and glanced with rather a peculiar expression at the attorney.
"I know you did," he said; "but you see I've left those parts. I guess I wrote you a letter, Mr. Craig, a week or two ago."
"You did."
"In which I asked you the loan of a thousand dollars?"
"Why, yes."
"And I guess you refused 'em?"
The attorney bit his lip, and glanced from Augustus to Bowen.
"Ah, I don't mind Mr. Horton knowing our private transactions," said Bill; "I asked for the loan of a paltry thousand dollars, and you refused me. Now, considering all these things, I thought this was rather shabby conduct, so I've discharged myself from your employment, and I calculate you'll have to look out for another overseer."
Augustus Horton was prepared to see the attorney resent the insolence of this speech, but to his surprise Silas seemed only anxious to conciliate Bowen.
"My dear William," he said, "you must remember that you have driven me rather hard lately. However, suppose you call upon me at my office. We'll settle matters there."
"We will settle matters, I reckon, Mr. Craig," answered Bowen, and a close observer might have detected a peculiar significance in his tone.
But Silas Craig was too much agitated to perceive this. He had not yet recovered from the extraordinary revealments made to him in his interview with Pauline Corsi. He felt like a man who walks blindfold upon the verge of a precipice, and who knows that every new footstep may hurl him to the gulf below.
Augustus and the attorney were leaving the quay when William Bowen called after them.
"I guess you were up to something down here, gents," he said; "you were looking after somebody, weren't you?"
"We were," answered Augustus; "we were in search of a runaway slave."
"The gal as you're after is Gerald Leslie's daughter, the Octoroon, I'll lay a hundred dollars?" cried Bowen.
"She is."
The overseer laughed aloud—
"I'm darned if I didn't calculate as much," he said; "then I'm sorry to tell you, Mr. Horton, that the young lady's bolted with that Britisher as was so uncommon peart on board the Selma. They left by the St. Louis packet half an hour ago. I thought there was something in the wind, but I'd no authority to stop 'em."
"D—n!" muttered Augustus Horton; "that Englishman has foiled me at every turn. The next packet for St. Louis starts the day after to-morrow. They'll have eight-and-forty hours start of us, and they'll make their way to a Free State."
He walked away from the quay, followed by Silas Craig.
"If there's law in New Orleans," he cried, "I'll have them overtaken, and brought back."
William Bowen stood for some minutes, watching the two men as they walked away.
"I think I managed that job rather neatly," he said, with a malicious chuckle. "I've paid you out, Mr. Augustus Horton, for any impudence I've ever taken from you; and in a couple of hours more, my friend, Silas Craig, you and I will have squared our accounts for the last time."
Augustus and the attorney walked back to the house of the former, after making arrangements for the pursuit of Cora Leslie and her lover. The planter was maddened by his defeat, and utterly merciless to the unhappy girl who had, for a time at least, escaped from his power.
"I'll have her brought back," he cried, "and lashed as a runaway slave. I'll have her advertised in every paper in Louisiana. I'll spend every dollar I possess rather than let her escape me, and I'll make Gilbert Margrave pay dearly for his insolence."
Silas and the planter found Adelaide Horton and Mrs. Montresor seated beneath the veranda on the morning room, which opened into a small garden.
The weather was so warm, that the two ladies had left the interior of the apartment for the airy shade of this veranda.
We have not seen Adelaide Horton since the scene on board the Selma—that disgraceful scene, in which the young girl had suffered the pangs of jealousy to goad her to an action unworthy the better feelings of her impulsive nature. Bitter and immediate had been the punishment which followed that action.
Despised by the man she loved, cast off by her cousin and affianced husband, Mortimer Percy; harassed with the tortures of self-reproach, the unhappy girl had ample cause for painful reflection and regret.
She would have made any sacrifice to recall her words of denunciation the moment after their utterance.
The memory of her old friendship for Cora Leslie stung her to the heart, and the mildly reproachful gaze of the Octoroon haunted her perpetually.
Mrs. Montresor had done her best to console her niece; but Adelaide's gayety and light-heartedness had entirely deserted her.
She was no longer the same high-spirited girl who had arrived two months before in New Orleans.
The ladies looked up from their work as Augustus and the lawyer approached them. Adelaide perceived her brother's ill-concealed agitation, and asked the cause of it.
He related his adventure on the quay.
"Then Cora and Gilbert Margrave have left for Saint Louis?"
"They have," answered Augustus with an oath, "but they shall not long escape me. Listen to me, Adelaide; you may wonder at the passion I feel upon this subject, but my pride has been humiliated by the cool insolence of the Octoroon, and whatever motive I may have had for my conduct at the slave sale yesterday, I have now no purpose but that of bringing Cora Leslie's haughty spirit to the dust. I will have her found and brought back to New Orleans, and I will give her to you as your lady's-maid. I know that there is little love lost between you, and that I could not easily inflict a greater humiliation upon my fine lady."
"And you will give her to me?" exclaimed Adelaide with evident delight.
"Yes. I thought you'd like the idea."
"You will give me Cora Leslie?"
"I will. The girl cost me fifty thousand dollars, but I care for nothing now but revenge. Make her your lady's maid—bring her nose to the grind-stone—let her feel what it is to be the slave of the woman who hates her."
"I will gladly accept your gift, Augustus," said Adelaide, eagerly; "but I fear that you will change your mind."
"No, indeed!"
"Then suppose you write a memorandum of your gift, and sign it in the presence of Mr. Craig and my aunt."
"Willingly," replied Augustus, and seating himself at the table scrawled a few lines, transferring the Octoroon to his sister, and after signing the document, pushed it across to Silas Craig.
"Witness that, Craig," he said, "since my sister is so much afraid of my breaking my word."
Adelaide took up the paper, glanced at its contents, and placed it in the pocket of her dress.
"I cannot tell you, my dear Augustus, how grateful I am to you for this gift," she said, exchanging a look of peculiar significance with her aunt, Mrs. Montresor.
Five minutes afterward, Myra, the Quadroon slave, announced Mr. Leslie and Mr. Percy.
Augustus Horton started at the sound of those names. Mortimer Percy had been absent from New Orleans since the night of the duel between his cousin and Gilbert Margrave. A faint flush suffused the cheek of Adelaide Horton; she felt that she was about to meet the man who had once loved, but now despised her.
Augustus was utterly ignorant that Gerald Leslie had assisted in carrying off the Octoroon; he had recognized no one but Gilbert Margrave, upon the night of the abduction.
The planter received his visitors with cold politeness, but the rat-like eyes of the attorney glanced with a look of hatred at Gerald Leslie.
Mr. Leslie was not alone; Toby, the mulatto, followed him into the garden.
Silas Craig started from his seat with an angry oath. "What brings you here," he cried, "Toby?"
"Do not blame him, Mr. Craig," answered Gerald Leslie, quietly, "it is I who brought Toby here."
"Oh, it was you, was it? and by what right do you order my slaves about, pray, Mr. Leslie?"
"You will learn that in due time; I have reason to think that Toby's presence will be needed."
The attorney quailed beneath the steady gaze of Gerald Leslie. He felt that some hidden danger was threatened by this visit.
"Pray, Mr. Leslie," said Augustus Horton, "may I venture to ask the motive which has brought you and my cousin to a house in which you can hardly expect to be welcome?"
"You will very soon know that, Mr. Horton," answered Gerald. "Our visit to-day is to Mr. Craig, rather than to yourself; and our motive in coming to this house is that you may learn the true character of the man whom you have chosen as your associate."
"I require no such teaching, Mr. Leslie," said Augustus, haughtily. "Silas Craig, why do you sit there like a stock? Why don't you speak, man; and ask Gerald Leslie what he means by this?"
"Shall I answer that question, Mr. Horton," replied Leslie. "Silas Craig does not speak because he dares not; because he knows his own guilt, and knows that the seizure and sale of my property, which took place yesterday, was an illegal one."
"Illegal?"
"Yes, illegal; because that seizure was made for a debt which I did not owe. The sole claim which that man, Silas Craig, had upon me, was a debt of one hundred dollars. That debt was paid to him a year ago by my late partner, Philip Treverton."
Silas Craig laughed aloud; but it was a hollow and affected mirth, which could scarcely have deceived the most shallow observer.
"You are either a fool or a madman, Gerald Leslie," he said. "If Philip Treverton had paid the money he would have had a document; who can prove the payment of the debt?"
"I can!" exclaimed William Bowen, emerging from the window of the morning room. "You refused me a paltry thousand dollars, Mr. Silas Craig; I reckon I've paid you out for your shabby conduct. Here's the receipt—the genuine document—in your own handwriting, signed with your own name, and given by you to Philip Treverton."
He thrust an open paper into the attorney's hand. Silas sat gasping at the document, as if he had been rooted to the spot.
"Ay, you may stare," said Bowen. "You told me to burn that paper, didn't you, upon the night of Philip Treverton's death? And you saw me burn it as you thought; but I knew the slippery customer I had to deal with, and I changed the papers. You thought you heard footsteps outside the door, and while you turned round to listen I substituted a blank sheet of foolscap for the receipt, and thrust it into the fire. You saw the blaze, and you were satisfied. I kept the genuine document, thinking it might be useful."