“‘DEAREDDIE—Your second message was received. I deeply regret that I have nothing but the worst news to communicate—our darling Lottie is slowly but surely passing away. She may possibly live twenty-four hours longer, though I think she will die to-night. I would be so glad if you and Harry could get herebefore she dies, because she expresses such great anxiety to see you. She says she does not feel a particle of pain. God seems to be merciful in that respect Her mind remains perfectly clear, and she converses rationally, but most of her conversation is about you and Harry. I believe if she could see you it would greatly relieve her mind, and that then she would pass away without a struggle. If you could reach home to-night you might see her before she dies. May God, in His great mercy, give you courage and strength to bear this great loss with becoming fortitude!DODSON.’
“‘DEAREDDIE—Your second message was received. I deeply regret that I have nothing but the worst news to communicate—our darling Lottie is slowly but surely passing away. She may possibly live twenty-four hours longer, though I think she will die to-night. I would be so glad if you and Harry could get herebefore she dies, because she expresses such great anxiety to see you. She says she does not feel a particle of pain. God seems to be merciful in that respect Her mind remains perfectly clear, and she converses rationally, but most of her conversation is about you and Harry. I believe if she could see you it would greatly relieve her mind, and that then she would pass away without a struggle. If you could reach home to-night you might see her before she dies. May God, in His great mercy, give you courage and strength to bear this great loss with becoming fortitude!
DODSON.’
“As soon as I finished reading this telegram I handed it to Harry, then told the messenger to go to the village and remain till morning, so as to give his horse the necessary rest, and the next day to go back to the station and get our horses and deliver them to the owner. I presented him my fine gold watch, as a reward for his faithful services, then dashed away as fast as my gallant steed could carry me.
“When we were within five miles of the station Harry looked at his watch and observed:
“‘If we get to the station in time for the up-train we will have a close race indeed; we have only twenty minutes to make the five miles.’
“I did not believe that I was doing wrong on that occasion when I urged my noble horse forward to the very top of his speed. I knew it would distress and press him both for us to make it in time, yet I believed he could do it without endangering his life. My conclusions were correct; for we did dismount at the station as the train dashed into the streets of the little town. We gave our horses in charge of the livery stable keeper, and stepped on the platform just as the train began to move.
“I wish I could convey to my audience a correct idea of my feelings when I began to hope I would reach home in time to see Lottie before death claimed her. I hastily wrote a dispatch with my pencil, intending to have it sent forward from the next office, notifying Doctor Dodson that we were on the train and would reach home that night. Here is the identical telegram—I have been careful to preserve them:
“‘DEARDOCTOR—We are aboard the train, and will be home to-night. For Heaven’s sake don’t let my darling die before we come! Send an answer so it will meet us at Grenada. We aredue there at eight o’clock. Tell Lottie that we are begging God to spare her dear life. Cheer her up with hope; I can’t bear the thought of losing my darling!’
“‘DEARDOCTOR—We are aboard the train, and will be home to-night. For Heaven’s sake don’t let my darling die before we come! Send an answer so it will meet us at Grenada. We aredue there at eight o’clock. Tell Lottie that we are begging God to spare her dear life. Cheer her up with hope; I can’t bear the thought of losing my darling!’
“This dispatch was handed to the operator at the first office we reached, who promised to forward it without delay. Then I dropped down on my seat and spent every moment in earnest prayer.
“It was fifteen minutes past eight when the train arrived at Grenada, and I believe that city is just one hundred miles from Memphis. That is the place where the Mississippi and Tennessee Railroad connects with the New Orleans, St. Louis and Chicago Railroad, and we would have to take the Mississippi and Tennessee road to go to Memphis. As soon as the train halted I hastened to the telegraph office to inquire for news, as I was expecting an answer to my last message. I was well acquainted with the young man who had charge of the office at Grenada—he had formerly resided in Memphis. He was about my own age, and we had been bosom friends for many years. I rushed into his presence and hurriedly inquired if there was a dispatch in the office for me.
“‘Take a seat, Demar,’ said the operator, ‘you look very ill; can I do anything for you?’
“‘Any telegram here for me?’ I exclaimed, disregarding his kind offer.
“‘Yes,’ he hesitatingly answered, ‘but you had better take a seat and compose yourself before you read it. The news it brings is very bad, though I infer that you have been expecting it.’
“The objects in the room seemed to be running round, a blindness began to close over my eyes, and I felt a smothering sensation in my throat and lungs. The operator very fortunately happened to think of a bottle of spirits of camphor that he had bought from the drug-store that day—he seized it and sprinkled my face and moistened my beard with the liquid, which I believe prevented me from fainting. After a few minutes had elapsed I requested him to give me the dispatch.
“‘You may give it to me now,’ I said, ‘because I am prepared for the very worst.’
“He handed the envelope to me and I read the following words:
“‘MYDEARBOY—Trust in God—He alone can comfort you now—our darling is dying. Death began to lay his cold hands on her dear body at four o’clock. She may linger four or five hours longer, but I think all will be over before that time. She expressed so much anxiety to see Viola that the sheriff very kindly consented to bring her here, and when they met it was the most affecting scene I ever witnessed. I fear we committed an error in allowing Viola to come, because as soon as the sheriff started away with his prisoner Lottie became worse, and is still rapidly failing. But how could I have the heart to refuse to let her see Viola, when she insisted so earnestly to have her sent for? Lottie leaves many messages of love with us to be delivered to you when you come, provided you do not arrive in time to receive them from her own lips.“‘I beseech you, my dear boy, to bow submissively to the will of God—and remember you can meet Lottie in Heaven if you try. You will also understand that you are not the only one who grieves for this great affliction.DODSON.’
“‘MYDEARBOY—Trust in God—He alone can comfort you now—our darling is dying. Death began to lay his cold hands on her dear body at four o’clock. She may linger four or five hours longer, but I think all will be over before that time. She expressed so much anxiety to see Viola that the sheriff very kindly consented to bring her here, and when they met it was the most affecting scene I ever witnessed. I fear we committed an error in allowing Viola to come, because as soon as the sheriff started away with his prisoner Lottie became worse, and is still rapidly failing. But how could I have the heart to refuse to let her see Viola, when she insisted so earnestly to have her sent for? Lottie leaves many messages of love with us to be delivered to you when you come, provided you do not arrive in time to receive them from her own lips.
“‘I beseech you, my dear boy, to bow submissively to the will of God—and remember you can meet Lottie in Heaven if you try. You will also understand that you are not the only one who grieves for this great affliction.
DODSON.’
“‘When does the train start for Memphis?’
“‘Seven o’clock in the morning,’ replied the agent.
“‘Alas! that would be too late; all will be over before then,’ was my reply.
“‘I believe,’ said the agent, ‘that under the circumstances the superintendent would let you have an extra train for a reasonable compensation. I will ask him by telegraph, if you wish it.’
‘“You are very kind, sir, and I thank you; please make the request without delay. Tell the superintendent that money is no object—the value of the engine and coach is offered, and will be promptly paid if required. I beg you, sir, not to lose a moment. If you only knew how precious time is to me now, you would be in a hurry!’
“While I was urging the agent to send the message, the clicking of the instrument under his thumb and finger indicated the fact that the electric fluid was dashing the request into the office at Memphis. The dispatch was gone in three minutes. A short conversation was then commenced between the superintendent at Memphis and the agent at Grenada. As the clicking of the instrument carried the words to the ear of the operator, he conveyed them to my ear by word of mouth.
“‘Is number seven there?’ inquired the superintendent.
“‘Yes,’ was the operator’s reply.
“‘Is she in good running order?’
“‘I will ascertain in a moment.’
“‘Go ask Mr. Steelbrim to come here quickly,’ said the operator to a little negro who was dozing near the door.
“The little fellow rose up, shook himself, rubbed his eyes with his sleeve, gaped, and staggered up against the wall and said:
“‘Sir!’
“The order was quickly repeated, and the boy walked leisurely away. It was but a few minutes until a little dark-haired man, with long black whiskers and large expressive eyes, entered the office. His garments were covered with grease and smut, and his hands were thrust deep down in his pockets, and a don’t-care sort of expression was visible on his face.
“‘Is number seven in good running order, Mr. Steelbrim?’ inquired the operator.
“‘Apple-pie, hunkadory, O. K.—no mistake. Never nothing wrong with that old gal when under my command, you bet!’ was replied by the greasy little man as he limped across the floor, for his left leg was shorter by two inches than the other.
“‘How long before you can heat her up and be ready to make a quick run to Memphis, Mr. Steelbrim?’
“‘Do it in less than no time, sir; the old gal’s pretty hot now—just began to cool her off. She hain’t been in more’n ten minits; but what’s up?’
“‘An extra train to Memphis; a quick run—very important—no time to be lost—get ready immediately; take one coach and back down here, and the orders will be ready.’
“‘Good! The old gal can make the run in two hours, if she has a clean road and no bigger load than one coach. Glad to make the run—wanted to go to Memphis anyhow—sweetheart there—want to see her—was going to ask for leave anyway—ten minits we’ll be off like a greased streak of lightnin’!’
“The greasy little man moved away as if he meant business.
“‘Number seven is in good order—Mr. Steelbrim anxious to make the run,’ said the operator to the superintendent by wire.
“‘Start him at 8:50 with one coach. Let him make the run in 2:30 if he can. Order track to be cleared. Tell number four to take side track at Sardis. Number seven will only stop two minutes at Sardis for orders—two minutes at Hernando for same purpose—no other stop to be made.’
“As the operator repeated this order to me hope, which I thought had died within me, began to revive. A glimmering hope it was indeed, yet it was a live hope that I should once more gaze on those pretty blue eyes before death set his cold seal on them forever. I hurriedly wrote the following message, which the operator sent to Dr. Dodson:
“‘Will leave here by special train at 8:50, and arrive at depot at 11:20; have carriage at depot. Tell Lottie we are coming. For Heaven’s sake keep her alive till we come! Answer this at Sardis. Don’t fail nor lose time. Will send another telegram from Sardis.’
“‘Will leave here by special train at 8:50, and arrive at depot at 11:20; have carriage at depot. Tell Lottie we are coming. For Heaven’s sake keep her alive till we come! Answer this at Sardis. Don’t fail nor lose time. Will send another telegram from Sardis.’
“By the time this dispatch had been forwarded, Mr. Steelbrim had moved his engine onto the main track, and began to back down to the depot.
“‘All right, cap; the old gal’s a-pantin’ to be off. Steam one-forty and a-risin’. What’s the orders?’
“The operator read the orders carefully; then handed the paper to Mr. Steelbrim.
“‘Good! All aboard!’ cried the greasy little man, as he leaped on the cab and seized the throttle-lever.
“‘Pile on the coal, Jim; keep her a-bilin’; time’s up in three minits; old gal’s a-champin’ her bits; but I’m the chap that’ll hold her on the rail and let her fly directly!’
“Harry and I stepped aboard and took seats opposite each other in silence. A dim lamp struggled for life in one corner of the coach, while a pale light cast a gloomy appearance over the seats.
“‘Time’s up!’ exclaimed Mr. Steelbrim, as he gave the lever a backward pull, and the engine dashed rapidly away.”
Miss Kate Darlington was the only daughter of Thaddeus Darlington, a real down-eastern Yankee, who had imbibed all those unreasonable prejudices prevailing in the New England States against all citizens of the South. He had been sent South by the government to look after some defaulting revenue collectors, and after discharging that duty, he concluded to locate in Jackson, Mississippi. His daughter, Kate, had received a polished education, but she had been petted and flattered until she was pretty well spoiled. Her disposition was gentle and kind when things went smoothly, but she had a temper which often got the upper hand, and then she usually made matters rather unpleasant.
After the maskers had dispersed Miss Darlington stole away from the crowd, and took a seat behind the ladies’ cabin, in order to have what she called a day dream. A sentiment of a mysterious nature had of late been disturbing her mind—a strange feeling not altogether painful, and not entirely pleasant. A kind of joyful pain—a happy sorrow—a pleasant fear.
“What is the matter with me?” was the question she asked herself. “What sort of a pain is this that is mixed with delicious pleasure? How strange that such joy can be concealed under such misery!”
While she was thus soliloquizing the image of a man would every now and then pass across the path of her imagination. She could see the image plainer when her eyes were shut than with them open; and despite her efforts to drive it away, it would keep thrusting itself before her, sometimes in one shape, then in another, but always with the same look—the same form; that shape was the exact counterpart of the gallant sir knight of Ivanhoe.
“Yes, it is so; I am captured at last—it is love; heigh ho! there is no use to struggle any longer. What will dear papa say when he finds that I have fallen in love with a real double and twisted rebel—a man who fought through four years of bloody war against the union—a downright traitor, who bragsof the part he played in the rebel army? Ah, me! how strange it is that I should fall in love with such a man! But didn’t Juliet fall in love with a son of her father’s bitterest enemy? Yes; but, alas! what a tragic ending did that love produce! Something tells me that this love will end in sorrow. But stop a moment; why should papa be Ralleigh’s enemy? Why should I not love Captain Burk? He fought for his country—he fought in self-defense—he battled for his life—his liberty—his home—his mother and his sisters. He would have been less than a man if he had refused to fight—it would have been cowardly. No, he was right and I honor him for it; I love Captain Burk; papa will love him when he knows him better. I ought to be proud that such a man as Captain Burk has honored me with his love. I am proud of it. I will reciprocate his love; and, if papa is willing, I will be the wife of what my people have misnamed a traitor. Ah, me! there is the rub. Papa will raise a great row when he knows how I love a rebel.”
Scottie then took out her handkerchief and wiped away the tears that were stealing down her cheeks.
“A gentleman is looking for you, miss,” said a chamber-maid who came through the back door and approached her.
“Who is it?”
“I believe they call him Divinghoe or Hivanhoe, or some such outlandish name.”
“Where is he?”
“He is in the front part of the saloon; he sent me to hunt you.”
“Very well; you may tell him where I am, if you wish.”
But a moment elapsed before Ivanhoe was by Scottie’s side.
“I have been looking all over the boat for you, Scottie. What induced you to hide from me?”
“I did not hide from you particularly, but I felt sad and wanted to be alone.”
“I hope you will not be so cruel as to drive me away, when you know how it pleases me to be by your side!”
“Oh, no! I have had my little day dream, and am glad you came.”
“Thank you; can we have a little chat here without being interrupted?”
“Yes, I guess so; take a seat.”
“I have made another wonderful discovery.”
“What is it?”
“We have got a counterfeit emperor aboard of this boat.”
“What do you mean?”
“The real Napoleon has slipped out of his costume, and a counterfeit has slipped in. To be plain, a stranger got aboard somewhere, and is dressed in Napoleon’s costume; and the real Napoleon has vamoosed the ranch—run away, disappeared, melted into thin air, fell overboard, become extinct, or something of the sort; anyway, the original emperor is not comeatible. Now, Scottie, I should like to know what you think of such doings?”
“I will tell you in short what I think: We are all struggling in a sea of nonsense; and I am heartily ashamed of my part of it. I wish I were at my father’s house—that I do; and if things don’t change pretty soon I shall set my sails in that direction. Napoleon is not the only one who has been playing tricks on this boat. Captain Quitman ought not to permit such doings.”
“How did you get possession of the information?”
“I had had many conversations with the original Navarre; one subject in particular had been frequently discussed between us. A while ago I walked up and took Navarre’s arm and began to talk about the special subject. He was startled when I took his arm; and I could feel his body trembling. After I had gone on talking for about five minutes he gave a grunt like a wild hog and abruptly walked away, leaving me thunderstruck with astonishment; I then discovered that he was not the real Navarre.”
“Now, Scottie, if I had been present when that scamp had the impudence to grunt at you, I think I should have broken his head with my cane.”
“I am very glad, then, you were not present, because I am on Grant’s platform—Let us have peace.”
“Peace is a very good thing in its proper place; but I feel very much inclined to get up a row here. I think I shall commit some sort of mischief if these things don’t change very soon. The fact is, we may look out for squalls—some sort of deviltry is brewing aboard of this boat certain.”
“I am of that opinion, myself; but I think we had better have nothing to do with it.”
“That woman in the black domino keeps me on the rack all the time; and I would not be at all surprised if it should turn out that she is at the bottom of all this mysterious game.”
“Suppose we change the subject and let the black domino and her co-conspirators work out their own schemes.”
“Very good. What shall we talk about?”
“Oh, anything for a change.”
“What book is that you hold in your hand?”
“Paradise Lost.”
“I would rather see Paradise found; but how do you like Milton?”
“Too much imagination and not enough sentiment. Such extravagant ideas! Just think of his description of the war in Heaven. He says they plucked up great mountains by the roots and threw them at each other’s heads. Now I think that is a little too extravagant.”
“If you like sentiment, you admire Tom Moore.”
“Ah! you are right as to that. Give me Moore and Burns above all others. I often steal away when at home and weep over the sweet sentimental songs of those favorite poets.”
“Shakespeare is my poet. Speaking of sentiment, it gushes up on every page, and streams from every line. Rosalind, Imogene, Juliet, Romeo, Orlando and Hamlet—all are made to utter the most soul-stirring, heart-melting sentiment. But enough about poetry; take my arm and let us go on deck and enjoy the scenery.”
As soon as they reached the upper deck, George III. came up with a look of mystery on his countenance.
“Good morning. I was wanting to speak a few words with you. Perhaps you have heard of my great mishap?”
“No! what is it?”
“My watch was stolen from my pocket within the last thirty minutes.”
“Ah, ha!” exclaimed Scottie, “I told you so. The whirlwind has started, and a tornado will wind up the scene.”
“Have you any idea who was the thief?”
“Yes; but my suspicions may not be well founded.”
“May I know whom you suspect?” inquired Ivanhoe.
“Yes, provided you will promise not to mention it to any one.”
“Good! I promise, of course.”
“So do I,” said Scottie.
“My suspicions point to that man who appears in Napoleon’s dress and mask; though he is a newcomer.”
“Why not make the charge boldly, and demand the right to make a search for the watch?” said Ivanhoe.
“Let us wait and watch him, for he is bent on mischief, and we will catch him in the act of picking some man’s pocket.”
“I beg pardon, gentlemen,” said an old man with long, white whiskers, as he bowed very low to Ivanhoe and George III. He was the same gentleman who had been so often seen with the lady in the black domino leaning on his arm. “I have a communication to make which I consider of some importance. The fact is, matters are becoming somewhat complicated on this boat; and if I might be so bold as to offer advice, I should say that it is high time for all these young people to lay aside their masks. Wolves have managed to get into the flock; and mischief will be done if matters go on in this way much longer. A lady aboard of this boat, whose name I am not at liberty to mention, has made a startling disclosure to me, which portends some dire mischief. The fact is, I am constrained to believe, from what she told, that murder is contemplated.”
“May we know the particulars?”
“Of course, yes; that is the very matter I wish to communicate. If you will be so good as to request Ingomar to join us, I would be much obliged, as I think he ought to hear what I have to say.”
Ivanhoe went after Ingomar, and soon returned accompanied by him.
“The young lady to whose sagacity I am indebted for the important information which I am about to communicate has a history—yes, a very strange history, full of queer incidents such as you see in novels. The young lady to whom I refer is the one in the black domino. You have often seen her leaning on my arm, gentlemen. She is a most elegant young lady, of remarkable beauty and superior intellect, whose protectorI have the honor to be at this time. A combination of sad circumstances—unfortunate events, I might say—have clouded her young life. You may perhaps have noticed that she has not participated in any of the amusements in which the young people have been indulging on this boat. If I were at liberty to reveal the secrets of her unhappy life, I could unfold a most distressing story; but that is a sealed book, so far as we are concerned. You have probably noticed a disposition on the part of this young lady to wander about alone, seeking solitude, where she could give free vent to her grief, and let her tears flow unnoticed by the unsympathizing crowd. Well, I did not approve of this course, but was unable to prevent it; and perhaps, after all, it was fortunate that I did not stop it, for it was during one of these solitary rambles that the information which I am going to communicate was obtained. She had concealed herself on the larboard side of the boat just in front of the wheel-house, and behind a stack of furniture, where she could meditate alone, when two men came out and stood on the other side and held a consultation in very low tones. She could not hear every word that was said, but what she did hear was of a most startling character. As soon as the two men stepped into the saloon the young lady came and immediately imparted to me what she had heard. To say I was surprised would not convey the full meaning of what I felt. The fact is, I was shocked, startled, paralyzed with astonishment! Yes, gentlemen, it is most wonderful—I might say diabolical. I can repeat, word for word, all that the young lady heard, which I mean to do. It was unfortunate, however, that she did not see the two men—that is, she did not get a full view of them; but she saw the head and shoulders of one of the men as he passed through the door, and she thinks she knows who he is; but for fear that she might be mistaken as to that, she requested me not to mention the name of the man she suspects, which request I, of course, must respect. Now here is the conversation verbatim, as it was related to me by this unfortunate young lady:
“‘He is the man, beyond question,’ said the first speaker.
“‘Yes, that’s certain,’ replied number two.
“‘He has lots of greenbacks,’ says number one.
“‘We must have his money and his life, too. We must first get his money, and then settle the other matter.’
“‘Do you know how much money he has?’
“‘No; but it is way up in the thousands—and I think I may say tens of thousands.’
“‘Good; That’s lucky; but have you matured any plan to crib the game?’
“‘Yes.’
“Then they began to talk in a whisper, and the young lady could not hear all that was said; but ever and anon she could catch a word such as ‘Throttle him—chuck him overboard—dead men keep secrets—revenge—old grudge—he ruined me—money good—revenge better—could steal his money—but rather have his life.’ Then they whispered for a long time in tones so low that the young lady could not hear what was said. Now, gentlemen, I guess you will indorse me when I say it is diabolical. Who is to be the victim? who is to be chucked overboard? That is the question, gentlemen. It may be you, or you, or you, or it may be me. What’s to be done? That’s the question I put; shall we sit still and wait for the catastrophe; or shall we go to work and prevent it?”
“I can answer for one,” said Scottie, in a tone of firmness, as she rose from her seat: “I shall leave this boat as soon as we reach Vicksburg, and make my way to my father’s house at Jackson, Mississippi; I wash my hands of this nonsense.”
“If Scottie leaves the boat at Vicksburg,” observed Ivanhoe, “I am inclined to the opinion that another passenger will feel it his duty to fall back, too.”
“I’ll fight it out on this line if it takes all summer,” said George III. as he walked round, describing a circle of fifteen feet. “The man who chucks me overboard shall go along with me; and who robs me of my purse, only cheats himself, and does not make me poor, indeed; because that has already been done long, long ago.”
“A man would be an expert pickpocket indeed who could steal a purse from me,” said Ivanhoe; “I have had no use for an article of that sort for many years; Scottie can testify truly.”
“I don’t suppose you have had any use for a purse since Confederate money went down,” replied Scottie.
“I think we had better consult Captain Quitman about this matter,” suggested Ingomar.
“Certainly, sir, I agree with you there,” observed the old gentleman with the white whiskers, “and if you will wait a moment I will bring him here.”
Captain Quitman soon appeared accompanied by the old gentleman.
“Well,” said the captain, “what’s the question to be discussed?”
The old man related, in a rambling manner, what the young lady in the black domino had heard. When he had finished the narrative, he began to stroke his long white whiskers with his left hand.
“What do you think of that, sir? Yes, yes, that’s the question, Captain Quitman; what do you think of that, sir?”
“Gammon, sir! all gammon!” muttered the captain, as he lighted a fresh cigar and began to puff the smoke in clouds above the old gentleman’s head.
“Gammon! gammon! zounds! sir, do you apply that epithet to the young lady who has the honor to be under my protection—I mean the young lady whom I have the honor to protect?” The old gentleman locked his hands under the tail of his coat, and began to prance around at a rapid rate. “Gammon! I think you said gammon, sir! What in the deuce do you mean by gammon, sir? Do you know the meaning of the word, sir? I ask you that, sir. Do you know, sir, that gammon and humbug mean the same thing? Why, didn’t you say the young lady was a humbug, sir, in plain terms! Answer me that, sir. I’ll have you understand, sir, that this young lady is no humbug; she is not gammon either, sir. If you call this unhappy young lady a humbug, sir, you shall answer for it; yes, answer for it. Is that plain enough for you, sir?”
“I beg pardon, sir,” said Captain Quitman, politely; “you have entirely misunderstood me, my good friend; I had no allusion to the young lady when I made the remark, I assure you. I am convinced that the young lady heard just whatshe stated; but I was inclined to think that the conversation she heard was gammon, or humbug, if you please; I infer that the conversation alluded to something that had occurred, not to a plan for future execution.”
“You did not mean to apply the word gammon to the young lady then?”
“Certainly not! certainly not! I had no thought of such a thing.”
“Then, sir, there’s my hand—I forgive you, sir, with all my heart. I am a peaceable man—fact is, sir, I never get excited. I am slow to anger; I love peace, but despise the word gammon. I don’t think such an odious word should ever be used. I had an uncle once who committed suicide under circumstances of the most distressing character. My uncle was a very handsome young man—everybody said he resembled me. He was a very sensitive, melancholy man; had a fashion of looking on the dark side of everything; the fact is, my uncle was an unhappy young man. He fell in love with a beautiful young widow, and for a long time he tried to muster up courage to ask her to marry him; but it was postponed from month to month, until another man entered the lists to contend for the fair prize. At first the beautiful widow was rather favorably inclined toward my uncle. Time went on—my uncle went on, too; so did the beautiful widow. After so long a time, my uncle at last, in a fit of desperation, asked the beautiful widow to marry him. What do you think was her reply, sir? Why, sir, she looked him full in the face and sneeringly said, ‘Gammon!’ The next morning my uncle’s remains were found in a briar patch with a bullet hole through his head; and on a sheet of paper, which he held clinched in his fist, appeared the odious word—gammon, in large letters made in red ink. Now, sir, you will readily understand why I was displeased when you used that word just now.”
“Ah, sir, I again most humbly ask your pardon—I certainly did not mean to use the word as in any way applicable to you or the young lady.”
“Again, sir, I offer you my hand; but I fear you do not attach as much importance to what the young lady heard as you should; in fact, sir, I think you are mistaken when you concludethat the conversation referred to something which had transpired at some previous time.”
“I am inclined to agree with this gentleman’s views,” observed George III., “because part of the conversation evidently referred to some one on this boat who was to be the victim. By the by, had you heard that my watch was snatched from my pocket but an hour ago?”
“Ha! is that so?” exclaimed Captain Quitman, who for the first time began to look serious. “This, indeed, is news to me—it must be looked into; whom do you suspect?”
“The man wearing the mask and uniform of Napoleon. There are three men on this boat wearing costumes that were worn by other men when we left Memphis.”
“I must confess that this information surprises me; this conduct looks suspicious; something must be done.”
“I think all masks should at once be discarded,” observed the old gentleman; “and I had advised that course before you came up.”
“No! no!” said Captain Quitman, “that would prevent us from catching the thieves. I think I can suggest a better plan; in fact, I believe we can manage to capture the rascals, if my plan is adopted. We will employ some one to watch the three suspicious men; meantime don’t mention this matter to any one; just let me manage the case. I’ll place guards on all parts of the boat, both day and night, with instructions to keep an eye on those three men. Let the amusements proceed as if nothing had happened—mention the matter to no one, and I’ll vouch for the result. I have a man on board who was in the detective service many years. I’ll put him on their tracks. Your watch shall be found, if the matter is left to me; if not, you shall be paid for it.”
“Your plan, sir, is evidently the best under the circumstances,” said Ingomar, “because if we unmask now that would enable the thieves to evade detection. Let the young lady in the black domino understand that she is not to tell any one about what she heard.”
“Do you remember the number of your watch?” inquired Captain Quitman, addressing George III.
“No.”
“What is its value?”
“I don’t know.”
“Where did you purchase it?”
“I—I, that is, I ah, hem! I didn’t buy it at all, sir.”
“Ah! a present then, I suppose, from some dear friend?”
“No.”
“You inherited it from deceased relations?”
“No.”
“Then how in the deuce did you come by it?”
“I borrowed it from a friend.”
“Ha! ha! ha!” laughed the jolly old captain, “that makes the loss a more serious one; but never mind, you shall have your watch again soon, or cash enough to satisfy your friend.”
“But suppose those suspicious individuals should try to leave the boat,” said the old gentleman with the white whiskers.
“I shall instruct the guards to arrest them, and compel them to unmask and submit to a search, whenever they attempt to leave the boat.”
Ingomar and Captain Quitman then walked away, followed by the old gentleman with the white whiskers.
“Well, Scottie, I’ll give you a nickel for your thoughts.”
“Keep your nickel; and you had better not seek to know my thoughts just now, for they are not of a very pleasant nature. However, one idea has found its way into my scanty brain, which I have no objection to your knowing.”
“Let me have it, pray; any little idea of yours would be acceptable to me.”
“The black domino is a humbug, and her guardian is an old fool; there now, you have got at least one idea; do what you please with it.”
“Yes, and a very bright little idea it is, too; something of the same sort has been knocking for admission at the back door of my brain-pan for some time.”
“Ah, indeed! I hope it did not knock very hard.”
“Scottie, dear, don’t cut so deep, pray.”
“Don’t call me ‘Scottie, dear,’ if you please; I am tired of it. It is time for the queen’s party to re-assemble, and I want Ingomar to hurry through with his story, because when that is done the masks must all be laid aside.”
“Take my arm, Scottie.”
“No, no, that’s not the style now; you take mine.”
“Good enough; anything to get you in a good humor.”
“I smell tobacco, and something else; I believe it is gin.”
“Ha, hem! I dare say you smell tobacco, but as to gin, I expect you are mistaken; it’s brandy.”
“Well, either is bad enough, and I despise both.”
A great change was perceptible among the merry maskers when they had re-assembled in obedience to the orders of the queen. The different members of the party dropped in one at a time, taking their seats in silence. One circumstance happened which created some little excitement and no little curiosity. Henry of Navarre, who had kept away from the party up to this time, came forward and, bowing very low to the queen, asked permission to join the party to hear the story. As Navarre made his request she gave a sudden start, as if the sound of the voice had frightened her; and a perceptible tremor was discernible in her tone as she requested him to be seated. Napoleon, instead of taking his seat near the queen, took up his position by the corner of the pilot house, some distance from the spot occupied by the other maskers. One of the party called to him and requested him to take his place. He shook his head, but made no reply; and the queen commanded Ingomar to proceed.
“My good friends, I am now about to reach that part of my story which gives me more pain than pleasure to relate; in fact, I may venture to say that it will be all pain and no pleasure. I would gladly skip over a portion of the story, but that would leave a gap which would show an unfinished job. There is one circumstance, in this connection, which I consider it to be my duty to mention. During all my sufferings there was a sustaining influence that held me up—an invisible, indescribable presence all the time with me that kept me from dying with despair. That most potent influence was secured by humble, devout, sincere, secret prayer, coupled with an unswerving determination to discharge my wholeduty under all circumstances. This strange influence seemed to surround me on all occasions; and it enabled me to keep my head above the huge waves of trouble that were dashing against me with great fury. To be plain, I put my trust in God; and He did not forsake me. Some people would be disposed to sneer at sentiments of this character. In fact, I have often heard such sentiments ridiculed; and I have as often known men to change from the one extreme to the other. I knew a young man in Memphis, a few years ago, who had occasion to change his views. The change was brought about in a most singular manner. The young man was assisting some workmen to cover a very tall house, situated on Shelby street. A conversation had been going on for some time among the laborers, on the questions connected with the future state. The young man seemed to be the leader in the conversation.
“‘I don’t believe that God answers prayers,’ said he; ‘I don’t believe He pays any attention to the concerns of men; I never prayed in my life, and I am healthy and happy. I think it is simple in a man to ask God for anything. He knows what we want; and if He wishes us to have it He will give it to us without our asking.’
“As he uttered the last word his feet slipped from under him and he fell at full length on his back. The north side of the roof was covered with a white frost, which caused the young man’s feet to slip. The building was three stories high; and from the ground to the eaves was nearly forty feet. The young man was standing near the top of the roof, and as he uttered the sentence, he stepped over on the north side to get a hammer that he had left there, when he fell flat on his back; his body darted toward the edge of the roof like a lump of ice gliding down the mountain side. At the very brink of the roof, a nail caught in his clothes and stopped him. His legs were hanging over the edge while his body lay back on the shingles. The ground near the foundation of the house was covered with innumerable large stones, with hundreds of sharp corners and edges, which every one knew would cause the young man’s death, if he fell on them. There the man’s body swung forty feet above the ground—only held by a little number four nail. The slightest movement might send hissoul across the dark river. I have heard many people pray, but such a prayer as that young man uttered then and there I have never heard before or since. The most solemn promises of reformation were made, the most earnest appeals to God for help. A ladder was quickly brought from an adjoining hook and ladder company’s quarters, and the young man was saved. If any of my friends have a desire to know the name of this young man, go to all the churches in Memphis and hear all the Christians pray—then select the one that prays longest and loudest—that’s he.
“But I crave your pardon, my friends, for this digression, and will return to my story. We left Grenada at 8.50 sharp. The night was unusually dark; heavy clouds overspread the horizon and a steady patter of rain-drops could be heard falling against the windows of the coach. Harry and myself were the only occupants, and the train consisted of the engine, tender, and a single car in which we rode. Occasionally I would hoist the sash of the window in order to let the cold damp atmosphere cool my burning cheeks—for I felt as if my blood were boiling hot. As the head-light of the engine cast its bright rays on the trees along the road, I could see that we were dashing on with lightning speed. I occupied a seat on the left side of the coach, while Harry sat on the right, and immediately opposite the one where I was. When the windows were all down, there was an overpowering feeling of suffocation that was unbearable; and when they were up, the wind came dashing in accompanied by streams of rain. I would close the window and endure the oppressive closeness as long as I could; then hoist the sash again, letting the wind and rain pour in until my face would be cooled. I had borrowed Harry’s watch, and sat with it open in my hand, counting every second of time, which seemed to linger unusually long. A mental question kept presenting itself to my mind: Will I ever see Lottie again? Will she be dead before I get there? What is to be my fate in the future? Can I consent to drag out a long, miserable existence, after my darling has gone to Heaven? I made a solemn vow to God that I would not rebel against His will, but that I would humbly submit to, and bear without complaint, such punishment as He, in His great wisdom, might send upon me. Iearnestly begged for Lottie’s life. No one ever prayed more humbly and sincerely than I did on that occasion; and I believe Harry did the same—though he sat silently in his seat, apparently buried in his own sad thoughts. Sometimes he would turn his face toward me and point to the watch which I held in my hand—this I understood to be an inquiry as to the time. The only answer I made was to hold the watch close to his eyes. He would glare at it, then lean back in his seat, without uttering a word.
“Every now and then the wind would dash in through the window, scattering the falling rain over my face, causing the lamp to flare up and spatter; then for an instant the feeble light would flicker and struggle as if in the last agonies of dissolution. After an unusual gust had dashed in, bringing with it a copious shower of rain, I was compelled to close the window to prevent the lamp from being totally extinguished. As soon as I had excluded the air, the same feeling of suffocation that had annoyed me so often came upon me with redoubled severity. I could not get enough air into my lungs notwithstanding I was struggling to do so. I felt as I suppose one feels when dying; in fact, I do not believe that the actual pains of dissolution could have increased my sufferings.
“Harry made a sign signifying a wish to know the time. I managed to hold the face of the watch so he could see it.
“‘9.20,’ he whispered, as he leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. The lamp now began to sing and sputter, spitting the oil up through the chimney, making a dozen different sounds. It would dart a bright blaze nearly to the top of the chimney, then sink down so low that no light could be seen. It would whine like a young child, then sing; at times it would sputter—then pop, pop, pop, like the cracking of a small whip; anon it would whistle—and blaze up, casting a dazzling light all over the seats—then drop back to its usual dim dimensions. After it had performed a dozen such strange freaks, it gave one long shriek and suddenly expired. We were left in total darkness; a darkness as black as blindness itself. A ton’s weight seemed to be pressing on my breast; I felt that my last moment had come. I sank down on the seat without the strength to holdup my head; I was in a swoon. The first sensation I experienced, after my reason returned, was that of the most delicious pleasure. The strangest, but most exquisite, feeling of happiness seemed to steal over me; the most mysterious influence appeared to surround me. The smothering sensation was gone, and a delightful absence of pain was in its stead, and at once the coach seemed to be filled with the most delicious perfume, such as I had so often enjoyed while with Lottie in her flower garden. ‘What does it mean?’ I asked myself. ‘How could the coach be filled with such delightful odor when all the windows were closed?’
“‘Harry, what in Heaven’s good name does this mean?’ I at last managed to ask.
“‘Hush, Ed,’ he whispered, ‘some one is in this coach—it is a lady; I felt her skirts brush past my knees!’
“‘Lottie!’ I exclaimed, as I sprang to my feet.
“‘What do you mean?’ whispered Harry, as he caught me by the arm, while he was trembling like one in an ague fit.
“‘Lottie, darling, is it you?’ I gasped, while Harry still held me by the arm.
“‘Are you mad?’ he exclaimed, as he closed his fingers about my arm. ‘Why do you call Lottie? Don’t you know she is dying in Memphis?’
“‘She was here this very moment; I felt her skirt brush my knee, and I believe she called my name,’ I replied.
“‘Nonsense! I think there’s a lady in this coach—she passed me a moment ago. I distinctly felt her skirts brush against my knees as she went down the aisle.’
“‘Upon my honor, I thought I heard Lottie call my name.’
“‘Pshaw! Edward, of course that is all imagination, and I beg you not to talk so. I suspect that some one is trying to steal a ride; I am sure there is some one in this coach besides you and me. Try to calm yourself; what makes you tremble that way?’
“‘It is yourself who is trembling; let go my arm—you are hurting it! I declare, you are shaking as if you had an ague fit!’
“‘Yes, and your hand is as cold as ice.’
“‘Hark! what was that? did you hear anything?’
“‘No, but as I live I felt some one brush past me.’
“‘So did I; and it was a female, beyond all doubt, for I felt her skirts touch me as she passed, just as I did a moment ago.’
“‘Yes, and I distinctly felt something tickle my left cheek; it was the same feeling I had so often experienced when Lottie was near me, and a stray lock of hair would touch my face.’
“‘I declare, this is the strangest mystery that I ever heard of! Give me a match and let me relight the lamp, so we can see who it is.’
“‘I have not got a match—you will have to go and request the fireman to come and light it. Pray do so at once, for this darkness is distressing.’
“As soon as Harry went out to bring the fireman, I again felt something softly passing across my cheek. I threw out my arms, expecting to catch the living body of some person; but not so—I caught nothing. As I turned round I felt the same touch on my right cheek. It might have been imagination, but I thought I again heard Lottie calling my name. The truth is, I was so much overcome with excitement that I scarcely knew what was going on around me. Harry was out but a few moments, returning accompanied by the fireman, who immediately lighted the lamp. We procured a lantern and began to search for the mysterious passenger. We carefully examined every seat, looking under each bench, but could find nobody. We went out and examined the rear platform, thinking that probably some one might be stealing a ride, but nothing of the sort was to be seen. I became perfectly convinced that no one was concealed either in or outside of the coach. I was overwhelmed with astonishment at the singular mystery. When I told Harry what had occurred during the time he was gone after the fireman, informing him that I thought I heard Lottie’s voice distinctly call my name, he fixed his eyes upon my face, and gazed steadily for a moment, as if to satisfy himself that I had not gone mad.
“‘Ed,’ said he, ‘your mind has been taxed too heavily of late; I think it is quite unsettled. I do not believe you ever were inclined to be superstitious.’
“‘No,’ said I, ‘superstition has never been classed among my many faults; but on this occasion I must confess that I am unable to tell exactly what I do think. It may be as you say, that sorrow has to some extent unsettled my mind; but nevertheless I am sure I heard some one call my name, with a voice I could recognize among ten thousand. My telegram will be answered; the answer will meet us at Sardis; it will bring news of Lottie’s death; it will tell us that she died at 9:20; you will remember that was the exact time when the coach was filled with the delicious fragrance. That was the very moment when the lamp died, and then it was that we felt the skirts of a lady’s dress brush past us. Harry, our darling is dead, and as sure as we live her sweet spirit was with us here in this coach.’
“‘Oh, Edward, don’t talk that way, I beseech you! I declare, you frighten me. You are as pale as a ghost; sit down and try to be calm. You will regret this language when you get over the excitement.’
“I leaned back on the seat, closed my eyes, and endeavored to analyze the mysterious occurrences that had just happened; but the more I thought of the matter the more unsettled became my mind, and I began to try to fix my thoughts on other objects, but all seemed confusion and mystery. Harry settled himself down on the cushion and leaned his head on the back of the seat, closed his eyes and silently communed with his own thoughts. Not another word was uttered by either of us until the train drew up in front of the hotel at Sardis. A considerable crowd of people began to collect about the spot, having been somewhat surprised, no doubt, at the arrival of a train at that unusual time. Every now and then a man’s head would be thrust in at the door—then suddenly withdrawn. It was but a few seconds after the train had halted when Mr. Steelbrim poked his head in at the door, and, holding an envelope in his hand, said:
“‘A telegram for Edward Demar.’
“My hands trembled so that I could scarcely open the envelope; but at length I did, and read as follows: