downstairs in the hotel there had been the usual stir of the morning. till a late hour the punkahs had swung back and forth above the long tables in the dining room, each furnished with one of those primitive contrivances for the banishment of flies. the swaying of the pendent fringes of paper rivalled the rustling of the trees in the quadrangle outside, on which the broad, long windows looked, as each punkah-cord was pulled by a specimen of the cheerful and alert pickaninny of that day, keenly interested in all that occurred. others ran in and out of the kitchen, bearing to the waiters, to be dispensed among the guests, interminable relays of the waffles of those times, golden brown, delicately rich, soft, yet crisp, of a peculiar lightness,—a kind that will be seen no more, despite the food inventions and dietetic improvements, for the artists of that choice cookery are all dead and their receipts only serve to mark the decadence of proficiency.
strangers of all sorts, officers of the army, civilians from every quarter of the north, filled the public apartments, aimlessly chatting, discussing the news from the front, smoking matutinal[pg 219] cigars, buying papers from the omnipresent newsboys, or reading them in the big arm-chairs within or on the benches under the trees in the quadrangle, glimpsed in attractive verdure through the open doors of the office. there was continual passing through the halls, and groups filled the verandas and stood about on the sidewalk in front of the hotel, for the great brick pillars that supported the roof of the arcade at the height of the third story were anchored at the curb of the pavement, and this colonnade illustrated the forgotten architect's idea of impressiveness.
in the gay sunshine, the streets, with substantial two and three storied buildings on either side, with much effect of big airy windows and now and again a high, iron-railed balcony, were congested with traffic. the pavements were crowded with pedestrians of varying aspect,—freedmen in rags, idle, exhaustlessly zealous of sensation, grotesquely slouching along, eying the shop windows, seeing all that there was to be seen; soldiers in uniform on furlough; citizens of a new migration, having almost superseded the old townsmen, so limited were the latter in number in comparison with the present population of the gorged town; ladies, many the wives and daughters of federal officers, with an unfamiliar accent and walk, and with toilettes of a more recent style than characterized the native exponents of fashion. now and again[pg 220] some passing body of troops filled the avenue,—cavalry, with guidon and trumpet, or a jaunty progress of infantry, to the fife and drum and the tune of "the girl i left behind me!"
at this period the war had focussed a sort of superficial prosperity here. the counters were covered with northern goods to supply the needs and excite the extravagance of this medley of congregated humanity. street venders howled their wares in raucous voices that added to the unintelligible clamors of the old highways that were wont to be so dull and quiet and decorous.
the paving stones roared with the reverberation of wheels. sometimes endless trains of white-hooded army wagons defiled by; again heavy open transfers; sometimes an ambulance anguish-laden passed slowly, taking the crown of the causeway. occasionally a light-wheeled buggy whisked about with the unmistakable effect of display and with a military charioteer handling the ribbons, who found the tennessee blooded roadsters much to his mind. and forever the dray, laden with cotton bales sometimes, and sometimes with boxes, or barrels, or hogsheads, took its drag-tailed way to the depots or to the wharf. all was dominated by the presence of the mule—in force, driven loose in hundreds through the town to some remote scene of usefulness, now drawing the great transfers and drays, now giving an exhibition of the peculiar pertinacity of mule nature by planted hoofs and[pg 221] ears laid back and a resolution of immovableness, bringing the whole tumultuous noisy rout to a blockade of such intricacy and cumbrous obstructiveness that one might wonder by what magic the interlocked wheels, the twisted harness, the crowded beasts, the whistling, long-thonged whips and shouting, swearing men were ever disentangled.
these incidents impeded progress, and the passengers from the noon railroad train were disposed to complain and comment, and seemed fit subjects for sympathy, as they interchanged petulant accounts of experiences at the hotel desk, waiting to register. one was apparently not unknown to the clerk now in charge, an affable functionary to the deserving few, altogether stiff and unapproachable to the general public. he was the day clerk, and a far more magnificent individual than the forlorn night bird that languished behind the desk with no company but the wee sma' hours of the clock, and the somnolent bell-boys on their bench, and the watchman, walking hither and thither like a ghost as if his only mission were to be about, and the incoming traveller. the day clerk's courtesy had the grace of a personal compliment as he hurried the book away from the last signer and passed it on to another in the line,—a somewhat portly, red-faced, middle-aged gentleman, with short side-whiskers, of the hairbrush effect and a pale hue, not definitely gray,[pg 222] for he seemed hardly old enough for such tokens of years, and yet the flaxen tint had lost its earlier lustre. his hair was of the same shade, and he wore a stiff hat, a suit of "pepper-and-salt," and a dark overcoat of light weight.
"glad to see you, mr. wray," said the clerk, handing him the pen. "i am sorry i can't give you a room to yourself, but i can put you a bed in your son's room."
the pen was poised uncertainly—the gentleman with the side-whiskers stared.
"your son got in last night," explained the clerk.
the gentleman still silently stared. he had a close, compact mouth, a cautious mouth, and the lips were now compressed with an expression of waiting incommunicativeness. he evidently had not expected to be confronted with a ready-made family.
the clerk surprised in turn cast on him a glance of keen intentness. in these strenuous times every stranger in the town was liable to suspicion as a confederate emissary. "i was not on duty, myself, but i thought i saw—ah—here it is," turning the page of the register, "john wray, junior, manchester, england."
for one moment the portly gentleman gazed at the signature as if dumfounded. then with an air of ready recognition he justified his previous manifestations of extreme surprise by explaining the mistake of the clerk as to the matter of identity.
[pg 223]"oh, aw, a distant relative," he said, at last. "ah, aw,—he is the son of a cousin of the same name as mine, 'john wray.' the younger man is to be associated with me in business. what room? number ninety?"
and as he was assigned to that haven he took the pen and wrote, "john wray, manchester, england."
thus it was that, awakened by the brisk tap at the door, julius, leaning out of bed, turned the key, and reached out for the pitcher of ice water for which, being warm and thirsty, he had a drowsy impression that he had rung the bell. perceiving his mistake, and lifting himself on his elbow, julius beheld entering this blond and robust stranger, an inexplicable apparition, too solid for a spectre, too prosaic for a fancy.
the visitor stood, when the door had closed, gazing silently down at the recumbent figure, while julius, amazed at the form which his nemesis had taken, gazed up silently and lugubriously at the intruder.
all the methods of mr. john wray were in conformity with his portly rotundity, his slow respectability, his unimaginative commercialism.
the young man found speech first. "why this unexpected pleasure?" he asked ceremoniously, but with a satiric inflection.
"sorry to intrude, i'm sure," said the elder.[pg 224] "but my name is john wray of manchester, england."
the skies had fallen on julius. he strove to recover himself.
"and do you like it?" he asked vacuously.
"you seemed to like it well enough to register it."
"with a 'junior,' if you please."
the other fixed him with a stare of round blue eyes. "i think i understand you, sir."
"very possibly," said poor julius. "i am not very deep."
he was thinking that this was doubtless a military detective, a very usual factor for ferreting out schemes, obnoxious to the federal government and in aid of the confederacy. he determined to hold hard and sell his life dear.
"have you any letters or papers—any written communication for me?"
"none whatever," julius ventured.
"you knew you would meet me here?" the older man apparently wished to say as little as he might.
"i fancied i should meet you, but not in this manner," said julius, also enigmatical.
the portly gentleman looked painfully nonplussed and ill at ease, as he sat in the light little yellow rocking-chair, which now and again treacherously tilted backward and caused him a momentary but agitated effort at equilibrium, and julius vaguely remembered to have[pg 225] heard that rocking-chairs were not popular in england, and reflected that this worthy was not accustomed to have his centre of gravity so jeopardized.
"i think i should have had ampler voucher. you will pardon me for saying this?" remarked the stranger, at length.
"i will pardon you for saying anything you like," said julius, politely.
"the company informed me that a young man familiar with the country—a native, in fact—would meet me here and that i should be afforded means to identify him. i fancied he would have letters. but when i saw the register i supposed this the mark of identification. am i right?"
"my dear sir, you must not expect me to guarantee your impressions," said julius. he was glad he was in bed. he felt that he could not have stood up. "i should say, judging from the effect your valuable mental qualities make upon me, that any impression you see fit to entertain would be amply justified by the fact."
he did not know how to appraise the distinction of his own manner and special attractiveness, and he was both amazed and amused to note how mr. john wray of manchester, england, expanded under the compliment.
"i see, i see—i suppose this is even better than a letter, which might have been stolen, or[pg 226] transferred, or—however, or—shall we proceed to our commercial affairs?"
"i don't usually transact commercial affairs in my night-shirt," said julius, "but if i look sufficiently businesslike to suit you—just fire away; it's all the same to me."
he was growing reckless. the risk involved in this war of words with the supposed detective was overwhelming his reserves. he did not know certainly of what the man suspected him, how fully informed he might have become. he knew it was imprudent to suggest his withdrawal, for the effort at escape might precipitate immediate arrest. yet he could no longer spar back and forth.
"however," he said, as if with a second thought, "i should like a dabble of a bath, first, and to get on my duds, and to have a whack at breakfast, or dinner,—whichever is on parade by this time."
"certainly—certainly—by all means. i will meet you in the hotel office, and shall we dine together at two?" he held out the dial of his watch.
"at two," assented julius.
his friend was in such polite haste to be gone that he shuffled and plunged awkwardly on his gaitered feet, fairly stumbling over his portmanteau near the door as he opened it; then he went down the hall with a brisk, elastic step. julius lay dumfounded, staring at the[pg 227] portmanteau, which was of an english make and bore the letters, j. wray, manchester, england, on one side. he rose and turned it about. it had not been hastily arranged to mislead him. the lettering had been done long ago. the receptacle was evidently travel-worn, and stamped deep in the bottom was the makers' name, trunk manufacturers, manchester, england.
julius dressed in haste, his heart once more agitated with the hope of deliverance. he could hardly control his nerves, his eager desire that this might prove merely an odd coincidence, instead of a detective's deep-laid scheme. it began to seem that the man's name might be really john wray of manchester, england, some army jobber, or speculator, perhaps—the country was full of them. he said he had expected to meet an "agent of the company," who knew the country.
"i know the country," said julius, capably; "i know the country to a t-y ty. i can give him all the information he wants, free, gratis, and for nothing."
yet in naught, he resolved, would he betray himself. this mistake, on the contrary, might open to him some means of getting through the lines and back to his command with this map—this precious plan of the defences of the place that would be of distinct value to the cause of the confederacy.
he therefore cast aside his half-formulated[pg 228] scheme of seeking escape from the supposed detective through the street. he had remembered that there were stairs on the galleries, leading from one floor to another, and thence to the quadrangle, as well as the great main staircase from the hallways into the office. he at last took his way, however, down this main staircase, with its blatant publicity, and its shifting groups of federal officers and busy, newly imported civilians. he recognized the wisdom of his boldness almost immediately. mr. john wray of manchester, england, standing conferring amicably with a cluster of worthies of that marked commercial aspect, alertness, and vim of expression, which imply the successful business man of the heady, venturesome type, since known as "plungers," turned and perceived him, and catching his eye beckoned to him with great empressement.
"allow me, gentlemen, to introduce mr. john wray, junior—the son of my cousin, john wray," he said.
there ensued the usual greetings, the usual stir of hand-shaking, and if any eye in the office had chanced to note the newcomer with the faint suggestion of doubt or interest or suspicion, which a stranger is apt to excite, it evaporated at once, for the elder mr. wray was well known in the hotel and the town, having been here often before, and was a very sufficient voucher for any kinsman.
[pg 229]genial indeed this group proved at dinner, seated on either side of the upper portion of one of the long tables. julius found it accorded with his subsidiary character as youthful kinsman of one of the chief spokesmen to maintain an intelligent and receptive silence. once or twice one of the more jovial of his newly acquired cousin's confrères gave him a glance and lifted his wine-glass with a nod, as who should say, "to you, sir," in the midst of the general discourse.
this was eagerly commercial, for the most part, and piecing the details together as he plied his knife and fork, julius learned that his new friend was interested in a flourishing american concern which had large government contracts for ready-made army clothing, the woollen cloth and other textile fabrics being supplied from manchester, and was indeed one of the english agents. he could not reconcile anything that he heard with a requisite for caution or for any service which he could perform, necessitating secrecy or an alias, or his sudden and affectionate adoption as a kinsman.
"it is a trait of piety to trust in providence," julius reflected in this quiescent state. "but i doubt if my confiding reliance in this fix can be set down to my credit. for the lord knows there's nothing else to do!"
he created the impression of a decorous, well-bred youth, and in the fashionable english clothes he looked little less british than the elder john[pg 230] wray. there was so much good-fellowship that it was natural that the postprandial cigars with a decanter and glasses should be taken out to a summer-house in the quadrangle, where at one extremity the river had a slant of the westering sun on its surface. the hills of the distance were of a dull grapelike blue against an intensely turquoise sky; the magnolia trees above their heads already bore fine cream-white blossoms among the densely green and glossy foliage, and the surrounding town was cut off from sight and sound by the three encompassing sides of the hotel. yet it was not a solitary place. no one looking at the group could imagine it had been chosen for seclusion. from the galleries of each of the three stories a glance could command it. guests were continually sauntering into and out of the office. here and there a federal officer strolled along the little esplanade above the water-side. on the lower veranda two elderly men—one a chaplain—were playing very slowly and with great circumspection a game of chess. there were onlookers here, with whom time seemed no object, calmly studying the moves, solaced by a meditative cigar, and at long intervals showing a flicker of excitement at the magic word, "check!"
the summer-house had already a thatch of vines, but bare columns upheld the roof, and it occupied a little circular space of gravel, whence a broad gravel walk ran toward each point of[pg 231] the compass. an approach could be instantly observed, a step instantly heard, and therefore it did not seem to julius altogether incongruous that business of importance and details of secrecy should presently be broached. the table in the centre was all at once covered with papers, and he began to understand the mysteries that had hitherto baffled him when gradually the details of a very bold and extensive blockade-running scheme were unfolded.
this was in defiance, of course, of the federal regulations, and in so far militated against no interest of the government that julius had sworn to serve. but it was a private enterprise for personal profit, and whether the export of cotton from the country to england at this juncture accorded with the policy of the confederate states he had no means of knowing. at one time, he was aware, there existed an impression that the official withholding of such shipments as could be effected by running the blockade tended to create such paucity of the staple in the english market as might influence the already pronounced disposition of the british to interfere in aid of the confederacy, and bringing the war to an end remove this restriction of manufactures and trade. all this was beyond his province. he held very still, remained keenly observant, watching for the loophole that might enable him to quit these tortuous ways for the very simple matter of fighting the battles of his section. after[pg 232] these various turmoils of doubt, and hope, and despair, it would be a mere trifle to charge with his company to the muzzles of the biggest howitzers that ever bellowed.
he discovered that these men were in correspondence with secret agents in the confederacy; they spoke of various depots of the cotton which presently developed as mere caches—bales hidden in swamps, to be brought out only by such craft as could navigate bayous, or in deserted gin-houses on abandoned plantations, or in old tumble-down warehouses on the outskirts of towns,—never much at any one point, but all that could be found and bought, and concealed and held, to be gotten away at last to a foreign market. the system sought to reach to the gulf of mexico, to gather up the scattered wayside stores, and either by taking advantage of some lapse of federal vigilance, or else by strategy, to run the blockade with a ship-load, and away for england! thus the enterprise was contrary to the policy of both factions. the company's gold would recruit the endurance of the south, and yet he knew that the confederate authorities had put the torch to thousands of bales rather than let the cotton fall into their enemy's hands—the precious commodity, then selling at amazing prices in the markets of new york.
suddenly his own personality came into the scheme with an abruptness that made his head whirl.
[pg 233]"how is it," demanded a sharp-featured man, who had sparse sandy hair, very straight, very thin, the head almost bald on top extending the effect of the forehead, watery-blue eyes that nevertheless made out very accurately the surrounding country, metaphorically considered, a somewhat wrinkled face albeit he was not old—"how is it that your cousin should be so well acquainted with the country? i take it that he is an englishman, too!"
"why, no, he is not," candidly answered mr. john wray, and julius had an instinct to clutch at him from across the table to hinder the divulging of the imposture, "and, in fact, he is not my kinsman at all. i should be extremely glad if he were," and he smiled suavely across the table at julius. "he is, i understand, a native of this region." and forthwith he told the story of the register.
the spare, businesslike man, whose name was burrage, at once laid his cigar down on the table with its ash carefully disposed over the edge.
"and did he bring no letters?"
"none; very properly. it is most unwise to multiply papers in the hands of outside parties."
"but he should have had something definite."
"i think the registry of the name very definite." mr. john wray reddened slightly. he was not in the habit of being called in question for precipitancy.
"it strikes me as a most fantastic whim on the[pg 234] part of the company. you might not have interpreted it correctly—taken as you were by surprise," mr. burrage rejoined. then, "did you have any specific instructions to guide you personally?" the querist turned full on the young man, much to mr. john wray's disapproval. but julius answered easily:—
"none at all. it is my business to hold myself subject to orders."
"what is your name?" queried mr. burrage.
"at present—john wray, very much at your service," julius replied glibly; then with a sudden recollection of the vicissitudes of "mr. poet" and "mr. goat," he burst into his irresistible laugh, that cleared the frown from the brow of the actual mr. john wray and his colleagues, and caused the officers pacing along the esplanade, their shadows long now in the sun, to glance in the direction of the sound, sympathetic with the unknown jest.
mr. burrage pressed the matter no farther, but as he took up his cigar again, filliping off the ash with a delicate gesture, and placed it between his teeth once more, no physiognomist would have been required to discern in his resolute facial expression a firm determination to have full advices on this subject before he should ever lose sight of the very prepossessing young man introduced by mr. john wray.
"he goes out with the little steamboat down the river. i think a packet leaves to-morrow."[pg 235] mr. wray began to explain the simplicity of the duties devolving upon julius in order to demonstrate his own perspicacity and regard for precaution. "at her stoppages he visits the plantations on his list, notifies the men in charge of the cotton to get it out on the rafts and flatboats and to be ready to float down—there's a full sufficiency of water on the shoals now—to where the steamer we have chartered, bought, in fact, can pick it up. then he returns on the next packet. it is a trip of a hundred miles or so."
julius felt his heart beat tumultuously in the prospect of escape—to be out of the town once more! but to-morrow! what in the interval might betide!
"the point is to have our own steamboat clear fairly with the upper-country consignment. the rest she picks up as she goes. she is known as a packet to the river pickets; they won't be aware she has changed her trade till she has gone. but meantime to get the cotton collected it is necessary to have a man familiar with the country. on the way down or the return trip, in the distracted state of the region, politically, and its physical aspect as a nearly unexplored wilderness, it would be simply impossible for a stranger to cope with any disasters or difficulties, if one could be found to undertake the trip."
julius was astonished at himself when he[pg 236] heard his own voice blandly suggest—"come with me, mr. burrage! you would enjoy the trip—beautiful scenery! i should have the benefit of your long experience in matters of business, and you could avail yourself of my knowledge of the country and the people—the methods and the manners."
he was in admiration of his own astuteness. his intuition had captured the emergency. he had perceived in mr. burrage's face unmistakable indications that he would play the obstructive. he would detain the supposed agent here, and would not intrust him with the necessary instructions in this difficult and most compromising business, until the fullest advices could be had from the distant promoters of the enterprise, who were presumed to have sent hither "john wray, junior."
the suggestion of julius met with instantaneous favor among the group, except, indeed, that mr. burrage himself looked disconcerted, surprised, definitely at a loss. it removed all possible objections to the employment of this agent with no other credentials than the name on the register—but at this moment mr. burrage thought that perhaps the coincidence would have struck him with more force had the name been his own and the registry anticipated his arrival. time was of importance. no one more than the experienced man of business realizes the protean capacity for change appertaining[pg 237] to that combination of cause and effect called opportunity. what is possible to-day may be relegated to the regions of everlasting regret to-morrow. everything was favorable at the moment, feasible. the future stood with the boon of success in an outstretched hand. delay was hardly to be contemplated. the proposition that mr. burrage should accompany the agent of his own company on a tour of important negotiation, and at no sacrifice of personal ease, was at once so reasonable and so indicative of the fairest intentions that he was ashamed of the cautionary doubt he had entertained. all at once the journey seemed too much trouble. the matter had already been adjusted, he said. the plan might well stand as mr. wray had arranged it.
but mr. wray, too, added his insistence. "nothing could be better," he declared.
and as mr. burrage demurred, and half apologized, and was distinctly out of countenance, mr. wray compassionately overlooked all his disquieting cautions and protested with cordiality that the change would be an advantage. some difficulty might arise, some reluctance to deliver the cotton they had already purchased, some doubt as to the locality where it was stored,—they used this expression rather than "hidden," though julius apprehended that its cache was now a cane-brake and now a rock house or cave, and now a tongue of dry land in[pg 238] a network of bayous and swamps,—some failure of facilities in respect to men or water carriage or land transportation, with all of which this young gentleman, new to the arrangements and the enterprise, might find it difficult to cope successfully. such unforeseen obstacles might require a divergence from the original plan and the agent's instructions. but mr. burrage, a member of the company, could meet and provide for all these emergencies, and yet with such a guide be as assured and as confident of his footing in this strange country as if he himself were a native. it was the happiest suggestion! it enabled him to make a long arm, as it were, and manipulate the matter in effect without a proxy.
"and meantime it will be strange indeed if i cannot make a long leg!" thought julius, triumphantly.
the actual mr. wray was treated everywhere with all possible consideration and due regard to the fact that he was a british subject. the neutrality of great britain was considered exceedingly precarious, and there was no disposition to twist the tail of the lion, albeit this appendage was whisked about in a way that ever and anon provoked that catastrophe. the british lion was supposed in some quarters to be solicitous of a grievance which would justify a roar of exceeding wrath. in this instance, however, there was no necessity of withholding the favor[pg 239] asked by a british subject, mr. john wray,—for a pass for his cousin, mr. john wray, junior, of manchester, england, and his friend, mr. alfred burrage.
that night the two slept on the crowded steamer, as she was to cast off at a very early hour. long, long did julius lie awake in his berth in the tiny stateroom peculiar to the architecture of the "stern-wheeler." the good mr. burrage in the berth below snored in satisfaction with the events of the day, untroubled as to the morrow. julius had been so tormented by vacillations, by the untoward "about-face" movements of the probable, so hampered by the unexpected, so repeatedly disappointed, that even now he could not believe in his good fortune. something, somehow, would snatch the cup from his lips. but in the midst of his turmoil of emotion he had a distinct sense of gratitude that the preservation of his safety had involved no forwarding of equivocal interests. the affairs of the company were doubtless such as many were seeking to prosecute with varying chances of success. he would report the scheme to his commanding officer, however, and he could forecast the reply, "one of hundreds." but, at all events, the map in his boot-lining was a matter of no slight import. he could hardly wait to spread it on a drumhead before his colonel's eyes, and solicit the honor of leading the enterprise he had planned.
[pg 240]but was he, indeed, destined to escape, to come off scatheless from this heady venture!
"if ever i see the command again, by thunder, i'll stick to them as long as i live. if ever i can lay hold of my sword again, i swear my right hand shall never be far from its hilt!"
in the early hours of the night the loading of the cargo was still unfinished. the calls of the deck-hands, the vociferations of the mate, which were of an intensity, a fervor, a mad strenuousness, that might seem never heard before out of bedlam, the clash and commotion of boxes and barrels, the lowing of cattle and bleating of sheep, for the lower deck was given over to the transportation of army supplies, sounded erratically, now louder, now moderated, dying away and again rising in agitated vibrations. sometimes, as he lay, a great flare of light illumined the tiny apartment as the torches, carried by the roustabouts on shore, cast eerie vistas into the darkness, and he could see the closely fitted white planking of the ceiling just above his head, the white coverlet, and through the glass door, that served too as window, the railing of the guards without and the dim glimpse of the first street of the town—river avenue—about on a level with his eye, so deep was the declivity to the wharf.
quiet came gradually. the grating and shifting of the cargo ceased first; the boat was fully loaded at length. then the voices became subdued,—once[pg 241] a snatch of song, and again a burst of laughing banter between the roustabouts going up into the town and the deck-hands about to turn in on the boat. now it was so quiet that he could distinguish the flow of the current. yet he could not sleep. once he seemed near unconsciousness when he heard the clash of iron as the stoker was banking the fires, for steam was up. then julius lay in unbroken silence, till an owl hooted from out the roscoe woods down the river. there was home! he thought of his father with so filial a tenderness that the mere recollection might be accounted a prayer. in that dense mass of foliage off toward the west, under the stars and the moon, stood the silent house, invisible at the distance, but every slant of the roof, every contour of the chimneys, every window and door,—nay, every moulding of the cornice, was as present to his contemplation as if he beheld it in floods of matutinal sunshine. "oh, bless it!" he breathed. "bless it, and all it holds!"
with dreary melancholy he fell to gazing out at the real instead,—at the vague slant to the wharf in the flickering moonlight, and the dim warning glow of a lantern on an obstructive pile of brick on the crest of river avenue. somehow the trivial thing had a spell to hold his eyes, as he watched it with a mournful, dull apprehension of what might betide, for he feared to hope still to escape—so often had this hope[pg 242] allured and disappointed him. would something happen at the last moment—and what would the next disaster be?
therefore when he suddenly became sensible that the boat was moving swiftly, strongly, in midcurrent under a full head of steam, he felt a great revulsion of emotion. floods of sunshine suffused the guards and, shining through the glass section of the door, sent a wakening beam into his face. a glance without apprised him that while he slept the town was left far behind, the fort, the camps, the pickets, all the features of grim-visaged war, and now great forest masses pressed down to the craggy banks on either side. the moment of deliverance was near,—it was at hand,—and as he dressed in the extreme of haste, he listened expectantly for the whistle of the boat, for it was approaching a little town on the opposite side where a landing was always made. julius hardly feared the entrance of any passenger who might recognize him, but he took his way into the saloon and asked for breakfast, in order that thus employed he might have time to reconnoitre. the boat, however, barely touched the wharf, and when he emerged and joined mr. burrage on the deck there was something so breezily triumphant in his manner that the observant elder man looked askance at him with a conscious lack of comprehension. he thought he was evidently mistaken if he had imagined he had gauged this youth. his[pg 243] breeding was far above his humble and subsidiary employment, and his manner singularly well poised and assured. there was a hint of dignity, of command, in his pose and the glance of his eye. he was perfectly courteous; he did not forget to apologize for a lapse of attention, albeit absorbed in a certain undercurrent of excitement. he did not hear what mr. burrage had said of the news from the front in the morning paper, and upon its repetition accepted the proffered sheet with thanks and threw himself into a chair beside his elderly fellow-passenger. he had hardly read ten words before he lifted his head with a certain alert expectancy, like the head of a listening deer. the whistle of the boat had sounded again, the hoarse, discordant howl common to river steamers, an acoustic infliction even at a distance, and truly lamentable close at hand, but it was not this that had caught his attention. the boat was turning in midstream and heading for the shore, now backing at the signal of her pilot's bells, peremptorily jangling, now going forward with a jerk, and again swinging slowly around, and at last slipping forward easily toward the wood-yard where great piles of ready-cut fuel awaited her.
an alien sound had also caught mr. burrage's attention.
"what is that?" he demanded of the captain of the steamboat, who held a field-glass and was looking eagerly toward the woods.
[pg 244]"musketry," replied the captain, succinctly.
"there is some engagement taking place in the forest?" inquired mr. burrage.
"seems so," said the captain.
"and are you—are you going to land?"
"must have wood—that's my regular depot," returned the steamboatman.
"you had best return to roanoke city instead," urged mr. burrage, aghast.
"need wood for that!"
"but the boat will be captured by the rebels. why don't you burn the freight?"
"beeves ain't convenient for fuel on the hoof."
"oh, i reckon the captain can wood and get off," said julius, good-naturedly, reassuring mr. burrage. "nobody is thinking about this boat now." then, as a sharper volley smote the air, he added, "i think i'll look into this a bit," rose and took his way through the groups of excited passengers and down to the lower deck.
the "mud clerk," the roustabouts, the wood-yard contingent, made quick work of fuelling the steamer, and she was once more in midstream, forging ahead at high speed, before it occurred to mr. burrage to compare notes with his young colleague and ascertain if he had learned aught of what forces were engaged.
he was not easily found, and mr. burrage asked the captain of his whereabouts.
"he must have got left by the boat," said the[pg 245] captain, as if the packet were a sentient thing and subject to whims.
mr. burrage, gravely disturbed, caused inquiry to be circulated among the hands and officials,—all, in effect, who had set foot on terra firma.
"who? that young dandy with the long hair?" said the "mud clerk," staring, his measuring staff still in his hand. "why, that man intended to land. he had his portmanteau and walked off along the road as unconcerned as if he was going home. i was too busy measuring the wood to pass the time of day, thinking the riverbank was alive with guerillas."
his departure remained a mystery to mr. burrage. as to the topographical features of his involved scheme he was powerless to prosecute this phase alone. the simple expedient of sticking to the packet and retracing his way on her return trip brought him at last to a consultation with his confrères, who also long pondered fruitlessly on the strange meeting and its result. about this time the agent or guide, provided by the company, presented himself with due credentials from the main office,—a heavy, dull, somewhat sullen man, with no further capacity, or will, indeed, than a lenient interpretation of his duty might require.
"i always shall think," mr. wray used to say, "that we suffered a great loss in that young man—that john wray, junior."
