Hatchie, the Guardian Slave Part 12

"_Here_!" cried a voice from the crowd.

Jaspar started and turned pale, for the voice was a familiar one.

"Where is he?" called Jaspar again, concluding that he must have mistaken the voice.

"Here!" again came forth from the crowd, and Hatchie stepped forward.

"h.e.l.l!" exclaimed Jaspar, staggering back as he recognized the man whom he supposed his rifle-ball had sent to furnish food for the fishes. But he recovered his courage instantly, feeling the danger of betraying himself.

"Here is the reward," stammered he, holding out the money.

"Never!" said Hatchie; and, before the crowd could clearly understand the nature of the case, he had vanished behind a heap of freight.

At Jaspar's suggestion, a diligent search was made in every part of the boat, but the mulatto was nowhere to be found. Jaspar, as usual, invented a story to account for the strangeness of the incident which had occurred. A liberal reward offered by him failed to produce the preserver of Emily.

CHAPTER VIII.

"'Tis much he dares; And to that dauntless temper of his mind He hath a wisdom that doth guide his valor To act in safety." SHAKSPEARE.

Although the general condition of the negro slaves at the South is the most degraded in which humanity can exist, there are some exceptions to the rule; and among them may well be placed the body-servant of Colonel Dumont, Hatchie, whose sudden and mysterious reappearance upon the deck of the Chalmetta must be accounted for.

With an intelligence far superior to his condition, Hatchie discovered the villany that lurked in the eye of Jaspar, on the night of the forgery of the will. As we have before said, no one better than he knew the character of Jaspar; no one better than he knew of what villany he was capable. When he had been sent for the keys, an undefined sense of duty prompted him to watch, and, if possible, to prevent the mischief which he foresaw was gathering. When ordered to retire, he had pretended to obey; but he placed himself beneath the window through which De Guy had entered, a small crack of which had been accidentally left open. In this position he saw Jaspar take out the packet which he knew contained the will. He heard De Guy read the fict.i.tious will, and at once discerned enough of the plot to comprehend the danger that hovered over his mistress. He understood that the real will was to be destroyed; and his first impulse was to save it, which he had adroitly accomplished as before related.

When Hatchie reached the open air, he was sensible of the dangerous position in which his bold act had placed him. So sudden and unpremeditated had been his action that no thought of future consequences had accompanied it. But, undismayed, he ran at his fleetest speed towards the river. He heard the footsteps of his pursuers, and every step he advanced he expected to receive the bullet of Jaspar.

Trusting for safety to the darkness of the night, he quickened his speed, till he gained the steep bank of the river. Leaping into the canoe which he discovered in his flight, he pushed out into the stream, and was several rods advanced towards the opposite sh.o.r.e when his pursuers reached the bank.

Plying the canoe with all the strength and skill of which he was master, his progress was suddenly interrupted by a log, upon which his frail bark struck with much violence. The collision checked his progress, and swung the canoe round by the side of the log. Satisfied that Jaspar would fire as soon as he saw the canoe, his ready ingenuity supplied him with the means of avoiding the ball, and of escaping further pursuit.

Taking the will in his mouth, he grasped the canoe with one hand, and paddled silently with the other and with his feet. He had turned the canoe adrift, and Jaspar, without waiting to examine it, had fired.

Hatchie then jumped up in the water, and produced the splash which had deceived his pursuers.

With much difficulty the mulatto had propelled the log beyond the reach of the current into comparatively still water. Here he remained quietly on the log, using only sufficient exertion to avoid the current, until he was satisfied that Jaspar and his companion had departed from the bank. He then returned to the sh.o.r.e, using the greatest precaution to avoid his enemies; but all was still.

Immediate danger being at an end, he bethought him of securing his future safety,--a matter of extreme difficulty for one in his position.

He was satisfied that Jaspar would invent some story to account for his disappearance; and just as well satisfied that he would shoot him, if he again showed himself on the plantation. He congratulated himself on the happy scheme he had adopted to deceive Jaspar; for he had now a reasonable security from being advertised and pursued as a runaway slave.

After much reflection, he concluded his wisest plan would be to seek safety in New Orleans, where, in the crowd, he might escape recognition.

The cane-brake and the cotton-grove would not protect him. He might be seen, and the blood-hound and the rifle bring him in a prisoner, and even Miss Emily would now be unable to save him from the penalty. How could he live in New Orleans, or how escape from there? He was without money, and he had sense enough to know that money is a desideratum, especially to the traveller.

Of this useful commodity, however, he had a supply in the mansion house, which he had saved from the presents made him by Colonel Dumont and his guests. Recognizing the necessity of obtaining it, as well as some more clothing, he resolved to enter the house and procure them, after the light he saw in the library-window was removed.

While waiting, he pondered more fully his position. What should be his future conduct in regard to the will? He carried with him, he felt, the future destiny of his gentle, much-loved mistress. He felt that on his action during the next hour depended the happiness for a lifetime of one whom he had been taught to revere, and whose gentleness and beauty had almost lured him to wors.h.i.+p. If the morrow's sun found him in the vicinity of the estate, he would probably fall a victim to Jaspar's policy. What should he do with the will? Should he show himself at the hour appointed for the reading of it? He might fall into Jaspar's hands in the attempt, the precious doc.u.ment be wrested from him, and thus all his exertions be in vain. Without the will itself he could do nothing,--his word or his evidence in court would be of no avail. No one would believe the former against Jaspar, and the latter was inadmissible.

Should he carry it to Mr. Faxon, or even to Miss Emily herself, Jaspar might obtain possession of it by some means.

His deliberations could suggest no method by which immediate justice could be done his mistress; and the conclusion of his reflections was, that he must place himself in a safe position before he attempted to expose the villany of others. His mistress, he knew by the will which he had heard De Guy read, was to be conveyed to Cincinnati. He must go to Cincinnati--but how? This was a hard question for the faithful Hatchie to answer; but answer it he must. He would go to New Orleans, and there form his plan.

After waiting till the lights were extinguished in the library, he entered the house, and obtained his money and clothing.

By the exercise of much caution, he reached New Orleans in safety, where, by the disburs.e.m.e.nt of a small sum of money, he obtained a secure retreat in the house of a free man, with whom he had formerly been acquainted. His object was now to obtain a pa.s.sage to Cincinnati,--a matter not easy to accomplish, as the law against conveying blacks, unprovided with the necessary permit, was very stringent. He could not hope, with his limited means, to offer an acceptable bribe for this service. To attain his object, therefore, he must resort to stratagem, for the chances of obtaining a pa.s.sage by direct means were too remote and too perilous to be hoped for. But accident soon afforded him the means of attaining his end.

The negro with whom he had obtained a shelter kept a small shop, and by the grace of the authorities and his neighbors was permitted to sell liquor, tobacco and cigars, to the steamboat cooks, stewards, sailors, and the soldiers who thronged the city on their return from Mexico. In the rear of this shop, and connected with it, was a small room in which the negro lived. This room afforded a safe retreat, and in it Hatchie had his hiding-place.

One day a little knot of men, in the faded, dilapidated garments of the army, entered the tap-room of Hatchie's protector. They drank deeply, and, as was their constant practice, they seated themselves at the broken table, and commenced gambling with the negro's dirty cards for the few dollars which remained in their possession. This amus.e.m.e.nt terminated, as such amus.e.m.e.nts frequently do, in a fight, in which one of the number seemed to be singled out as an object of vengeance for the others. This individual was an Irishman; and, for a time, he held way manfully against his a.s.sailants. But, at last, in spite of the exertions of the "proprietor" to protect him, he was likely to get the worst of it, when Hatchie, no longer able to control his indignation at the unfairness displayed in the encounter, suddenly interfered in favor of the now fallen man. His enormous strength and skill soon cleared the room of the rioters. Hatchie drew the defeated Irishman into his hiding-place, and locked the door. This man was Pat Fegan, who has been introduced to the reader.

Pat was filled with grat.i.tude to his protector, and swore he would stick by him till his dying day, if he was a "naiger." A mutual friends.h.i.+p was thus established, which resulted in the disclosure of their future prospects. The fact that both were seeking the same destination seemed to strengthen the bond thus formed. Hatchie, shrewd by nature, read the true heart of the Irishman. He felt that he could trust him with his life; but his ability was quite another thing.

Pat Fegan was without means, and readily accepted the hospitality which Hatchie offered to pay for. In the course of the long conversations with which the two friends beguiled the weary day, Pat related his adventures in Mexico, at the close of which he casually mentioned that the remains of several officers, who died there, were to be conveyed up the river.

Hatchie's curiosity prompted many inquiries, which drew from the talkative Hibernian a full description of the boxes that contained the coffins, and many particulars relative to the transportation of them.

Pat's description of the boxes suggested to Hatchie the means of getting to Cincinnati.

"Could you get me a box like those which contain these coffins?" asked he.

"Faix, I can, thin, if I only had the matther of two or three dollars.

But what the divil makes yous ax sich a question?"

"I will give you ten dollars, and pay your pa.s.sage to Cincinnati besides, if you will get me the box," said Hatchie, disregarding Pat's query.

"By me sowl, I'll get yous the box, and ax yous only the price meself pays for 't," replied Pat, touched at the idea of a reward, which between friends seemed base even to his rude mind.

"And I shall want your help, too."

"Yous may well count on that, for whin did a Fegan desart his frind? But tell me, honey, what yous mane to do wid it."

"I intend to get to Cincinnati in it."

"Is it in the box?" exclaimed Pat, astonished beyond measure. "Sure you will smodther!"

"But, my friend, I want you to look out for that, and give me something to eat and drink. You can pretend that the box contains the body of your captain, who, you said, died in Mexico."

"Arrah, me darlint, I see it all!" and Pat shook his sides with laughter at the idea of the mulatto's "travelling-carriage," as he styled it.

Pat had procured the box, and conveyed it to Hatchie's asylum. It was sufficiently large to furnish quite a roomy apartment. The covering consisted of short boards, matched, and screwed on crossways. To facilitate the introduction of food and air, and to afford the means of a speedy exit in case of need, he had taken off half these boards, and fastened them together with cleats on the inner side. The ends of the screws were then filed off, so that this portion of the lid exactly corresponded with the other portion. A number of hooks were then procured, so as to fasten it upon the inner side. By this arrangement, the occupant of the box would not be dependent upon exterior aid for egress. When once on board the steamer, he expected he should be able to leave his hiding-place in the night, and perhaps at other times.

Upon the outside the box was similar to the others, and was duly marked and consigned.

Hatchie's quarters were near the depot from which the coffins were to be s.h.i.+pped, and Pat, watching his time, had wheeled his own charge down in season to be s.h.i.+pped with the others. In the haste of embarking, the clerk had not noticed that one box more had been brought on board than his manifest indicated.

Hatchie was not aware that Emily and her uncle were pa.s.sengers on the same boat till the moment of the accident. He had before released himself from his prison-box, and was enjoying the fresh air, which the closeness of his box rendered particularly desirable, when he heard the scream of his mistress. Her voice was familiar, and even in the scream of terror he recognized it. It needed not a second thought to convince him of his duty. He had saved her life, and, forgetful of the danger of thus exposing his person, he stood by and saw her conveyed to her state-room. He heard Jaspar call for her deliverer, and offer a reward.

This he knew, if no one else did, was gross hypocrisy, and in the indignation of his honest heart he had stepped forward to confront him.

The sight of Jaspar, and the thought of his own responsibility, recalled his prudence; and he hastened to retrieve his error by escaping to his hiding-place in the box, in which no one thought of searching for a living man.

In the excitement and exertion attendant upon the incident, Henry Carroll had not recognized Hatchie; and, while Jaspar inquired for her deliverer, he had been seeking the surgeon. Henry thought of nothing but her safety.