The Fatal Cord Part 26

A mystery! By heaven, I'll find it out.

If a man may!--_The Maiden_.

Speed, Malise, speed!--_Lady of the Lake_.

One of the most lovely pictures in lowland scenery which I have ever looked upon is that around the mouth of a river which I have called the Clearwater (the English translation of its Indian name), and which flows between two of the southern counties of the western sh.o.r.e of Maryland.

From the northern sh.o.r.e of that stream, in this place wide and beautiful, stretches out a long, flat strip of white sand, which is covered here and there with patches of crab-gra.s.s, and of that kind of cactus commonly called the p.r.i.c.kly pear. On the western side of this strip of sand is a deep and capacious harbour, much resorted to by bay-craft and sea-going vessels, while waiting for a fair wind up or down the bay. On its eastern side extends a gulf, or indentation of the coast, called by sailors, if I remember rightly, Patuxent Roads, and which expands towards, and mingles with, the broad and beautiful Chesapeake. Along the sh.o.r.es of this gulf are shoals, famous in the country round as resorts of the fish called drums, which circ.u.mstance has given the name of Drum Point to the beach extending, as described, between the Clearwater and Maryland's n.o.ble bay.

On the northern side of Drum Point harbour, and near to where the point begins to curve away from the mainland, stood, during the second decade of this century (and, indeed, for many years afterwards), a long, single-storey frame building. This building, though placed upon the sands, was still many yards away from the highest line reached by the water at high tide. Directly behind it the land rose with a rapid swell to a plateau, some thirty or forty feet above the sh.o.r.e of the harbour.

This frame structure was what is called in the United States a store, and contained for sale such articles as are most in demand among seamen.

It belonged to an individual whom, for many reasons, I will call by a fict.i.tious name, Ashleigh, and who owned an estate of several hundred acres, embracing all the eastern line of the harbour sh.o.r.e, and extending some distance into the country behind it.

At the time of which I write, mysterious and very injurious stories, about the owner of this store, circulated in the neighbouring country on both sides of the Clearwater. It was said that he concealed smuggled goods, and even goods captured by pirates on the high seas, until an opportunity should occur for secretly conveying them to Baltimore for sale; and that he was implicated in some way in the trials for piracy held before one of the United States courts in Baltimore, in the early part of the present century.

At about half-past twelve o'clock, on a night towards the end of May, in the year 1817, three human figures stood upon the hill-side, overlooking Drum Point harbour. The princ.i.p.al form in the group was that of John Alvan Coe, a handsome young man of twenty-one or twenty-two years of age, tall, and well proportioned. When seen in the day-time, his clear blue eyes, Roman nose, and light chestnut hair, indicated a sanguine but gentle character, and one endowed with dauntless courage, controlled by a reflective mind. This young gentleman, the son of a planter in the neighbourhood, once wealthy, but now much reduced in worldly circ.u.mstances, was returning from his sport of night-fis.h.i.+ng for drums, accompanied by two st.u.r.dy negro men, who bore between them, suspended upon a pole, the ends of which rested upon their shoulders, a large basket, heavily laden with the scaly trophies of their recent sport.

Young Coe, while pa.s.sing on his way to the fis.h.i.+ng, about sunset, along the hill-side on which he now stood, had noticed, among the two or three vessels in Drum Point harbour, a beautiful brig of about a hundred and twenty tons burden. She was remarkable among the other vessels for her graceful figure, and the neat and trim appearance of everything on board of her. On his return from the fis.h.i.+ng, after leaving his boat hauled up on the beach of a small cove on the east side of Drum Point, his path lay across the low and sandy neck of land connecting the point with the mainland, and then in a gradual ascent along the green hill-side overlooking the harbour. While pursuing this path he had halted, with his companions, in a position from which he could view to the best advantage the fair and romantic scene which lay before him.

The moon, which was at its full, shed a softly brilliant silvery light over land and water. Away towards the west spread the beautiful lake-like expanse of the river--above five miles in length by two miles in width--which is bounded northward and southward respectively by the counties before referred to, eastward by Drum Point, and westward by the long, slender and curving, and still more lovely Point Patience. The waters of this fair expanse, softly stirred by a light breeze, gleamed with myriads of lights and shadows under the moonlight spell. The front of the low bluffs on the Saint Mary's side of the river, and the broad beach of sand beneath them, glowed softly white in the beautiful light.

It was impossible that one endowed with the temperament of John Alvan Coe could avoid, although constantly accustomed to scenes of natural beauty, allowing his gaze to rest for a moment upon the charming view before him. His attention was soon arrested, however, by something which was occurring in the harbour under the hill on which he stood.

The only vessel remaining there was the beautiful brig which he had noticed at sunset. Three boats, apparently heavily laden, had left the brig and were coming towards the sh.o.r.e. Soon afterwards the young man saw a light s.h.i.+ning out from one of the back windows of the storehouse on the beach.

There were some peculiarities in the character, or rather mental const.i.tution, of young Coe, with which it is necessary that I should acquaint the reader, before we proceed farther in the narrative, of the remarkable series of occurrences which arose to him out of the incidents of this night. He not only loved danger for its own sake, but was endowed with great fondness for romantic and stirring adventures. He had a great and at times irresistible curiosity to investigate whatever presented the appearance of darkness and mystery. In childhood this peculiarity had mainly exhibited itself in a fondness for unravelling riddles and conundrums; in more advanced youth, by solving, with great patience and industry, the most difficult problems in mathematics. The penetration of the meaning of the movement of the boats from the brig at such an hour irresistibly called to mind, as it did, the mysterious reports of smugglers and pirates in connection with this place, presented an especial fascination to a mind const.i.tuted as was his. His resolution was immediately formed to discover, at all hazards, the meaning of what was taking place beneath him.

It should have been mentioned before, perhaps, that the hill-side above the harbour was covered, to a great extent, with a growth of bushes, with a tree here and there. It was under one of the latter, whose dense shadow hid them from the view of those in the boats, that the fis.h.i.+ng-party stood, while young Coe was making the observations recorded above. As soon as he formed the resolution already mentioned, the young man addressed the two negro men--

"Boys," he said, "take up the basket"--they had put it down to rest themselves--"and go on. I shall follow you very soon. But do not wait for me, even though I should not overtake you before you get home."

The two negroes resumed their load and again started on their path. The young man waited until they had pa.s.sed out of sight over the hill, and until the boats had landed and the men belonging to them had, after a number of trips between the boats and the storehouse, transferred all the lading to the latter, and themselves remained under its roof. He then cautiously descended the hill, concealing himself as much as possible by interposing, whenever he could do so, the bushes between himself and the sh.o.r.e. In a few minutes he arrived beneath the window of the store-room from which the light that he had before observed was still s.h.i.+ning.

Guardedly he looked in. The counter had been entirely removed from its place, revealing a long and narrow opening in the floor, and steps leading downwards. Silks and other costly dry goods, and a number of boxes and other closed packages, were piled on the counter and floor. A lamp, casting a bright light, stood upon the counter, and another light shone from an opening in the floor; and men were seen carrying the merchandise into the cellar to which the steps below the floor led, and returning at short intervals for more. Two or three other men were standing on the floor of the store-room; one or the other of whom seemed, from time to time, to be giving directions to those who were removing the piles of goods to the apartment below.

There was a tall and handsome man on the side of the room opposite to the window at which young Coe was standing, who leaned against the closed door which looked, when opened, upon the river. This man wore a dark dress, and a black hat with a broad slouched brim, which threw a dense shadow over the upper part of his countenance. The long black beard from his unshaven face reached half way from his chin to his waist. This man did not speak, except to make a remark now and then to the two or three men who were not engaged in removing the goods.

Among all the men whom young Coe saw, there was not one whom he recognised as having been seen by him before. If Mr Ashleigh himself was engaged in what was taking place, he must have been in the cellar.

John Alvan Coe had barely time to make the observations recorded above, when the tall and quiet individual, who was leaning against the closed door, beckoned to a man near him, to whom he made some remarks in a low tone. This man immediately spoke to the others who were standing about on the floor of the store room. Instantly all in the room who were not engaged in removing the goods--except the long-bearded man who wore the slouched hat, and who, with a motion not at all hurried, opened for them the door against which he had been leaning--sallied forth upon the sands.

The young man waited for no further development. Supposing very naturally, what was the case, that he had been discovered, and that this party were sent in pursuit of him, he immediately turned away from the window and plunged into the pathway leading up the hill towards Mr Ashleigh's residence. No action, under the circ.u.mstances, could have shown the quick perception and ready decision of his mind to more advantage than his at once taking to this pathway; for, after he was once seen by his pursuers, his concealing himself amongst the few trees and scattered clumps of bushes along the hill-side would have been no safeguard under the almost daylight brightness of the clear moonlight.

Such a course would have given to his pursuers only a limited s.p.a.ce of ground to search over at their leisure, with the absolute certainty of discovering his place of concealment and making him prisoner. His taking the plain pathway to the hill-top made his escape depend upon his fleetness of foot, but only for a short distance; the hill once surmounted, a dense forest spread for miles along the route which he had to pursue. He had no uneasiness or doubt in trusting to his speed; for, inured by daily exercise, he had long been considered the boldest leaper and fleetest runner in all the country side.

STORY TWO, CHAPTER TWO.

THE PURSUIT.

*Hahn*. My lord, he has escaped.

*Otto*. Have thou no fear; he shall be prisoner.

I know the bird, his ways, where he frequents; And I shall lime a twig, upon the which I'll easily entice him to alight.--_Oldenheim_.

The noise of the footsteps pa.s.sing out of the door brought from the cellar a tall and slender elderly man, with black eyes, and dark hair thickly interspersed with grey. This individual seemed to be in a state of much excitement.

"What is the matter, Captain Vance?" he asked. "What has happened?"

"Nothing of much importance," answered the dark man with the black slouched hat, who was again leaning, as when first seen by John Alvan Coe, against the door, which opened upon the sands. "I caught sight of a man looking in upon us just now through the back window."

"Do you consider that fact as of not much importance?" said the elderly man from the cellar. "If you were in my position, I think that you would entertain a different opinion."

"Oh!" exclaimed the captain in a careless manner, "he was only 'A chiel amang us takin' notes.' I am very sure that he will never 'prent 'em.'

I shall take especial pains that he shall never have a chance of doing so."

"The men who went out just now then," remarked the elderly man, in an interrogative manner, "were sent to catch him?"

"Yes," was the laconic reply.

"G.o.d grant that they may catch him!" exclaimed the grey-headed man, in an earnest tone.

"If I were you, I would not call upon G.o.d in such a case," said Captain Vance, whose coolness and self-possession afforded a complete contrast to the excitement and alarm conspicuous in the bearing of his elder companion. "You had better turn your face downward than upward when you call for help; for you are more likely to have sympathy, in the present business, from the powers below than from the powers above. If prayer is the longing of the heart rather than the speech of the lips--as I heard the man who was looking in at the window say a year or so ago--you would have more chance for help by praying to the devil, Mr Ashleigh; that is, if his infernal majesty should think that any more a.s.sistance to you is needed to buy you."

"It is evident, captain," retorted Mr Ashleigh, "that you are now in one of your philosophical moods, as Billy Bowsprit calls them. I cannot see, however, that, even in the view of our relative positions which you are now taking, you have any advantage of me. I have long been familiar with the saying that 'the receiver is as bad as the thief;' but I have never heard, if my memory serves me rightly, that the receiver is worse than the thief."

"Nevertheless, I have the advantage of you," quietly answered Captain Vance. "I do not pretend to be any better than I am; I do not 'wear the livery of heaven to serve the devil in.'"

"Not in 'your vocation, Hal,'" said Mr Ashleigh; "that is, not here, on s.h.i.+pboard; but at home you are, I am sure, just as much a hypocrite as I am."

"There is some pith in that retort," replied Captain Vance, in a somewhat yielding tone. "Ah! we are all more or less hypocrites, Mr Ashleigh; as the poet says, 'we are all shadows to each other.'"

"Besides," continued Mr Ashleigh, "n.o.body in this neighbourhood would recognise you in that disguise and by this light; whereas, this building is known to belong to me, and the discovery of the business which is carried on here would, therefore, ruin me."

"Pardon the lightness of my manner of speaking," said the young man, in an earnest tone of voice. "My real reason for speaking so was not on account of want of concern in your interests, but because there is, in fact, no danger to you, or to any one of us, in any discovery made by the individual who just now peeped in upon us."

"I think that you intimated, a few moments ago," remarked Ashleigh, "that you know the person who was reconnoitring us. Who is he?"

"John Alvan Coe," was the answer; "son of old Mr Coe, who owns a plantation at the head of Saint John's Creek, a few miles from this place."

"Then I am lost," exclaimed Ashleigh, in increased alarm. "No man in this county--I may say in this State--can surpa.s.s him in ferreting out a secret, when once he has obtained a hint of it."

"I am as familiar with that peculiarity in his character as you are,"

remarked Captain Vance. "But I have a plan partly formed in my head, which, I am almost sure, will not only render him harmless, but will also add a very brave and intelligent member to my s.h.i.+p's company. I have but little hope that those who have gone in pursuit of him will overtake him. He is the fleetest runner that I ever knew; and sailors make but poor comparative headway on land."

"What is your plan?" asked Ashleigh.

"It is not yet perfectly formed," answered Vance. "It is still in the crucible of the brain; and I cannot tell what shape it will take until it has come out complete."

"You had better be in a hurry then," said the elder speaker. "There is but little time to act; when he has once told what he has witnessed here to another, the information will spread and spread, and there will be no stopping it. And then the consequences--ah! 'that way madness lies.'"