Fighting for the Right Read online

  CHAPTER X

  IMPORTANT INFORMATION OBTAINED

  Christy walked behind the detective in his capacity as servant. It wassoon evident to them that the ruffians gathered in the street meantmischief. On the staff over their heads floated the flag of the UnitedStates. Though Mr. Gilfleur was an alien, his companion was not. Ofcourse he knew that the islands were the resort of blockade-runners,that they obtained their supplies from the two towns of Hamilton and St.George's. This fact seemed to explain the occasion of the disturbance inthis particular locality.

  "What does all this mean, Christophe?" asked M. Rubempre, falling backto join Christy at the door of the consulate.

  "I should judge that these ruffians intended to do violence to theAmerican consul," replied Christy. "I heard in New York that he wasfaithful in the discharge of his duty to his government, and doubtlesshe has excited the indignation of these ruffians by his fidelity. Hisprincipal business is to follow up the enforcement of the neutralitylaws, which compels him to watch these blockade-runners, and vessels ofwar intended for the Confederate States."

  "That was my own conclusion," added the Frenchman, speaking his ownlanguage, as usual. "I should say that his position is not a pleasantone."

  "Here comes the bloody spy!" shouted several of the ruffians.

  Looking down the street, they saw a dignified-looking gentlemanapproaching, whom they supposed to be the consul, Mr. Alwayn. He did notseem to be alarmed at the demonstration in front of his office. Thedisturbers of the peace fell back as he advanced, and he reached thedoor where the detective and his companion were standing without beingattacked. The mob, now considerably increased in numbers, thoughprobably more than a majority, as usual, were merely spectators, hootedviolently at the representative of the United States.

  The gentleman reached the door of his office, and by this time theruffians seemed to realize that simple hooting did no harm, and theyrushed forward with more serious intentions. One of them laid violenthands on the consul, seizing him by the back of his coat collar, andattempting to pull him over backwards. Christy felt that he was underthe flag of his country, and his blood boiled with indignation; and,rash as was the act, he planted a heavy blow with his fist under the earof the assailant, which sent him reeling back among his companions.

  "No revolvers, Christophe!" said the detective earnestly, as he placedhimself by the side of the young man.

  Christy's revolver was in his hip-pocket, where he usually carried it,and the detective feared he might use it, for both of them could hardlywithstand the pressure upon them; and the firing of a single shot wouldhave roused the passions of the mob, and led to no little bloodshed.M. Rubempre was entirely cool and self-possessed, which could hardly besaid of the young naval officer.

  "He planted a heavy blow with his fist under the ear of his assailant." Page 116.]

  By this time Mr. Alwayn had opened the front door of the office, andgone in. The detective backed in after him, and then pushed Christy inafter the consul. The ruffians saw that they were losing their game, andthey rushed upon the door. One of them crowded his way in, but M.Rubempre, in a very quiet way, delivered a blow on the end of theassailant's nose, which caused him to retreat, with the red fluidspurting from the injured member.

  Taking his place, two others pushed forward, and aimed various blows atthe two defenders of the position; but both of them were skilled in thissort of play, and warded off the strokes, delivering telling blows inthe faces of the enemy. Mr. Alwayn had partially closed the door; but hewas not so cowardly as to shut out his two volunteer defenders. As soonas they understood his object, they backed in at the door, dispersingthe ruffians with well-directed blows, and the consul closed and lockedthe door. Before any further mischief could be done, the police came anddispersed the rioters. The consul fared better on this occasion than onseveral others, in one of which he was quite seriously injured.

  As soon as order was restored, Mr. Alwayn conducted his defenders to hisoffice, where he thanked them heartily for the service they had renderedhim. During the _melee_ M. Rubempre had tried to address the ruffians inbroken French, for he did not for a moment forget his assumed character.He used the same "pigeon-talk" to the consul, and Christy, in the littlehe said, adopted the same dialect.

  "I see you are not Americans, my friends," said the official.

  "No, saire; we are some Frenchmen," replied the detective, spreading outhis two hands in a French gesture, and bowing very politely.

  "Being Frenchmen, I am not a little surprised that you should haveundertaken to defend me from this assault," added Mr. Alwayn.

  "Ze Frenchman like, wat was this you call him, ze fair play; and vecould not prevent to put some fingers in tose pies. Ver glad you was nothave the head broke," replied M. Rubempre, with another native flourish."_Mais_, wat for de _canaille_ make ze war on you, saire? You wascertainment un gentleman ver respectable."

  Mr. Alwayn explained why he had incurred the hostility of theblockade-runners and their adherents, for he was sometimes compelled toprotest against what he regarded as breaches of neutrality, and wasobliged in the discharge of his duty to look after these people veryclosely, so that he was regarded as a spy.

  "Oh! it was ze blockheads, was it?" exclaimed the Frenchman.

  "Hardly the blockheads," replied the consul, laughing at the blunder ofthe foreigner. "It is the blockade-runners that make the trouble."

  "Blockade-runners! _Merci._ Was there much blockadeers here in zeislands?" asked M. Rubempre, as though he was in total ignorance of theentire business of breaking the blockade.

  "Thousands of them come here, for this is about the nearest neutral portto Wilmington, where many of this sort of craft run in."

  "Wilmington was in Delaware, where I have seen him on ze map."

  "No, sir; this Wilmington is in North Carolina. If you look out on thewaters of the harbor, half the vessels you see there areblockade-runners," added the consul. "And there are more of them at St.George's. It was only yesterday that a steamer I believe to be intendedfor a man-of-war for the Confederacy came into the port of St. George's,and I have been much occupied with her affairs, which is probably thereason for this attempt to assault me."

  "Ze _man_-of-war," repeated the Frenchman. "Ze war, _c'est la guerre_;_mais_ wat was ze man?"

  "She is a vessel used for war purposes."

  "_She!_ She is a woman; and I think that steamer was a woman-of-war."

  The consul laughed heartily, but insisted upon the feminine designationof the steamer.

  "What you call ze name of ze man-of-war?" asked M. Rubempre, putting ona very puzzled expression of countenance.

  "The Dornoch," replied Mr. Alwayn.

  "The D'Ornoch," added the detective. "How you write him--like zis?" andhe wrote it on a piece of paper by his own method.

  "Not exactly," replied the consul, writing it as given in English.

  "How long ze Dornoch will she stop in zat port?" asked the Frenchman,in a very indifferent tone, as though the answer was not of the leastconsequence to him.

  "Not long; I heard it stated in St. George's that she would get hersupplies and cargo on board to-day and to-morrow, and will sail beforedark to-morrow night," replied Mr. Alwayn. "The government here oughtnot to allow her to remain even as long as that, for she is plainlyintended for a Confederate cruiser, and my men inform me that she hassix great guns, and fifty men."

  M. Rubempre obtained all the information the consul was able to givehim, and much of it was of great importance. The official was underobligations to the two strangers, and he seemed not to suspect thateither of them was an American, much less a naval officer. They tooktheir leave of him in the politest manner possible, and were shown tothe door by the consul.

  "I am not quite sure that all his information is correct, and we mustinvestigate for ourselves," said the detective when they were in thestreet. "But this affray is bad for us, and I was very sorry when youinterfered, Christophe."

  "You did not e
xpect to see me fold my arms when a representative of theUnited States, and under our flag, was attacked by a lot of ruffians?"demanded Christy, rather warmly, though he spoke in French.

  "I know you could not help it, and I did my best to aid you," added M.Rubempre. "I only mean that it was unfortunate for us, for when we goabout on the islands, we may be recognized by some of that mob. We mustgo back to the hotel."

  In a few minutes more they were at the Atlantic, where the Frenchman,with his usual flourish, ordered a carriage to be ready in half an hour,adding that he was about to dress for some visits he was to make in St.George's. They went to their rooms, and each of them changed his dress,coming out in black suits. The master wore a frock coat, but the servantwas dressed in a "claw-hammer," and looked like a first-class waiter.

  It is about a two hours' ride over to St. George's, and Christy enjoyedthe excursion as much as though there had not been a blockade-runner inthe world. The town, with even its principal street not more than tenfeet wide, reminded him of some of the quaint old cities of Europe hehad visited with his father a few years before. But M. Rubempre was benton business, and the delightful scenery was an old story to him. Theytook a boat at a pier, and for an hour a negro pulled them about theharbor. There were quite a number of steamers in the port, long, low,and rakish craft, built expressly for speed, and some of them must havebeen knocked to pieces by the blockaders before the lapse of many weeks,though a considerable proportion of them succeeded in delivering theircargoes at Wilmington or other places.

  The visitors looked them over with the greatest interest. They even wenton board of a couple of them, the detective pretending that he waslooking for a passage to some port in the South from which he couldreach Mobile, where his brother was in the Confederate army. No onecould doubt that he was a Frenchman, and on one of them the captainspoke French, though very badly. M. Rubempre's good clothes secured therespect and confidence of those he encountered, and most of the officersfreely told him where they were bound, and talked with great gusto ofthe business in which they were engaged. But none of them couldguarantee him a safe passage to any port on the blockaded coast.

  The excursion in the boat was continued, for the visitors had not yetseen the steamer they were the most anxious to examine. The detectivewould not inquire about this steamer, fearful that it might be reportedby the negro at the oars, and excite suspicion. But at last, near theentrance to the harbor, the boatman pointed out the Dornoch, and toldthem all he knew about her. There were several lighters alongside,discharging coal and other cargo into her.

  M. Rubempre, in his broken English, asked permission to go on deck, andit was promptly accorded to him. He was very polite to the officers, andthey treated him with proper consideration. There were no guns in sight,and the steamer looked like a merchantman; but if she had been searched,her armament would have been found in the hold. The visitor againrepeated his desire to obtain a passage to the South; and this requestseemed to satisfy the first officer with whom he talked. He was informedthat the steamer would sail about five on the afternoon of the next day,and he must be on board at that time, if he wished to go in the vessel.He learned many particulars in regard to her.