Having delivered this message, he disappeared in the same direction that he came.
This brief interview was uneasily watched by one of the pa.s.sengers, a young man apparently nineteen or twenty years old. He whispered to a yellow lad, who was his servant, and both attempted to land by crossing the adjoining vessel. But the captain intercepted them, saying, "All must remain on board till we draw up to the wharf."
With desperate leaps, they sprang past him. He tried to seize them, calling aloud, "Stop thief! Stop thief!" Some of his sailors rushed after them. As they ran up State Street, lads and boys, always ready to hunt anything, joined in the pursuit. A young black man, who was pa.s.sing down the street as the crowd rushed up, saw the yellow lad race by him, panting for breath, and heard him cry, "Help me!"
The crowd soon turned backward, having caught the fugitives. The black man hurried after, and as they were putting them on board the vessel he pushed his way close to the yellow lad, and again heard him say, "Help me! I am a slave."
The black man paused only to look at the name of the vessel, and then hastened with all speed to the house of Mr. Willard Percival. Almost out of breath with his hurry, he said to that gentleman: "A vessel from New Orleans, named "The King Cotton," has come up to Long Wharf.
They"ve got two slaves aboard. They was chasing "em up State Street, calling out, "Stop thief!" and I heard a mulatto lad cry, "Help me!"
I run after "em; and just as they was going to put the mulatto lad aboard the vessel, I pushed my way close up to him, and he said, "Help me! I"m a slave." So I run fast as I could to tell you."
"Wait a moment till I write a note to Francis Jackson, which you must carry as quick as you can," said Mr. Percival. "I will go to Mr.
Sewall for a writ of _habeas corpus_"
While this was going on, the captain had locked the fugitives in the hold of his vessel, and hastened to the carriage, which had been waiting for him at a short distance from the wharf.
"Good evening, Mr. Bell," said he, raising his hat as he approached the carriage door.
"Good evening, Captain Kane," replied the gentleman inside. "You"ve kept me waiting so long, I was nearly out of patience."
"I sent you word they"d escaped, sir," rejoined the captain. "They gave us a run; but we"ve got "em fast enough in the hold. One of "em seems to be a white man. Perhaps he"s an Abolitionist, that"s been helping the n.i.g.g.e.r off. It"s good enough for him to be sent back to the South. If they get hold of him there, he"ll never have a chance to meddle with gentlemen"s property again."
"They"re both slaves," replied Mr. Bell. "The telegram I received informed me that one would pa.s.s himself for a white man. But, captain, you must take "em directly to Castle Island. One of the officers there will lock "em up, if you tell them I sent you. And you can"t be off too quick; for as likely as not the Abolitionists will get wind of it, and be raising a row before morning. There"s no safety for property now-a-days."
Having given these orders, the wealthy merchant bade the captain good evening, and his carriage rolled away.
The unhappy fugitives were immediately taken from the hold of the vessel, pinioned fast, and hustled on board a boat, which urged its swift way through the waters to Castle Island, where they were safely locked up till further orders.
"O George, they"ll send us back," said the younger one. "I wish we war dead."
George answered, with a deep groan: "O how I have watched the North Star! thinking always it pointed to a land of freedom. O my G.o.d, is there _no_ place of refuge for the slave?"
"_You_ are so white, you could have got off, if you hadn"t brought _me_ with you," sobbed the other.
"And what good would freedom do me without you, Henny?" responded the young man, drawing his companion closer to his breast. "Cheer up, honey! I"ll try again; and perhaps we"ll make out better next time."
He tried to talk hopefully; but when yellow Henny, in her boy"s dress, cried herself to sleep on his shoulder, his tears dropped slowly on her head, while he sat there gazing at the glittering stars, with a feeling of utter discouragement and desolation.
That same evening, the merchant who was sending them back to bondage, without the slightest inquiry into their case, was smoking his amber-lipped meerschaum, in an embroidered dressing-gown, on a luxurious lounge; his daughter, Mrs. Fitzgerald, in azure satin and pearls, was meandering through the mazes of the dance; and his exquisitely dressed grandson, Gerald, was paying nearly equal homage to Mrs. King"s lambent eyes and the sparkle of her diamonds.
When young Fitzgerald descended to a late breakfast, the morning after the great party, his grandfather was lolling back in his arm-chair, his feet ensconced in embroidered slippers, and resting on the register, while he read the Boston Courier.
"Good morning, Gerald," said he, "if it be not past that time of day.
If you are sufficiently rested from last night"s dissipation, I should like to have you attend to a little business for me."
"I hope it won"t take very long, grandfather," replied Gerald; "for I want to call on Mrs. King early, before her rooms are thronged with visitors."
"That opera-singer seems to have turned your head, though she is old enough to be your mother," rejoined Mr. Bell.
"I don"t know that my head was any more turned than others," answered the young man, in a slightly offended tone. "If you call to see her, sir, as mother says you intend to do, perhaps she will make _you_ feel as if you had a young head on your shoulders."
"Likely as not, likely as not," responded the old gentleman, smiling complacently at the idea of re-enacting the beau. "But I wish you to do an errand for me this morning, which I had rather not put in writing, for fear of accidents, and which I cannot trust verbally to a servant. I got somewhat chilled waiting in a carriage near the wharf, last evening, and I feel some rheumatic twinges in consequence. Under these circ.u.mstances, I trust you will excuse me if I ask the use of your young limbs to save my own."
"Certainly, sir," replied Gerald, with thinly disguised impatience.
"What is it you want me to do?"
"Two slaves belonging to Mr. Bruteman of New Orleans, formerly a friend of your father, have escaped in my ship, "The King Cotton," The oldest, it seems, is a head carpenter, and would bring a high price, Bruteman values them at twenty-five hundred dollars. He is my debtor to a considerable amount, and those negroes are mortgaged to me. But independently of that circ.u.mstance, it would be very poor policy, dealing with the South as I do, to allow negroes to be brought away in my vessels with impunity. Besides, there is a heavy penalty in all the Southern States, if the thing is proved. You see, Gerald, it is every way for my interest to make sure of returning those negroes; and your interest is somewhat connected with mine, seeing that the small pittance saved from the wreck of your father"s property is quite insufficient to supply your rather expensive wants."
"I think I have been reminded of that often enough, sir, to be in no danger of forgetting it," retorted the youth, reddening as he spoke.
"Then you will perhaps think it no great hardship to transact a little business for me now and then," coolly rejoined the grandfather. "I shall send orders to have these negroes sold as soon as they arrive, and the money transmitted to me; for when they once begin to run away, the disease is apt to become chronic."
"Have you seen them, sir," inquired Gerald.
"No," replied the merchant. "That would have been unpleasant, without being of any use. When a disagreeable duty is to be done, the quicker it is done the better. Captain Kane took "em down to Castle Island last night; but it won"t do for them to stay there. The Abolitionists will ferret "em out, and be down there with their devilish _habeas corpus_. I want you to go on board "The King Cotton," take the captain aside, and tell him, from me, to remove them forthwith from Castle Island, keep them under strong guard, and skulk round with them in the best hiding-places he can find, until a ship pa.s.ses that will take them to New Orleans. Of course, I need not caution you to be silent about this affair, especially concerning the slaves being mortgaged to me. If that is whispered abroad, it will soon get into the Abolition papers that I am a man-stealer, as those rascals call the slaveholders."
The young man obeyed his instructions to the letter; and having had some difficulty in finding Captain Kane, he was unable to dress for quite so early a call at the Revere House as he had intended. "How much trouble these n.i.g.g.e.rs give us!" thought he, as he adjusted his embroidered cravat, and took his fresh kid gloves from the box.
When Mr. Blumenthal went home to dine that day, the ladies of the household noticed that he was unusually serious. As he sat after dinner, absently playing a silent tune on the table-cloth, his wife touched his hand with her napkin, and said, "_What_ was it so long ago, Florimond?"
He turned and smiled upon her, as he answered: "So my fingers were moving to the tune of "Long, long ago," were they? I was not conscious of it, but my thoughts were with the long ago. Yesterday afternoon, as I was pa.s.sing across State Street, I heard a cry of "Stop thief!" and I saw them seize a young man, who looked like an Italian. I gave no further thought to the matter, and pursued the business I had in hand.
But to-day I have learned that he was a slave, who escaped in "The King Cotton" from New Orleans. I seem to see the poor fellow"s terrified look now; and it brings vividly to mind something dreadful that came very near happening, long ago, to a person whose complexion is similar to his. I was thinking how willingly I would then have given the services of my whole life for a portion of the money which our best friend here has enabled me to acquire."
"What _was_ the dreadful thing that was going to happen, papa?"
inquired Rosa.
"That is a secret between mamma and I," he replied. "It is something not exactly suitable to talk with little girls about, Rosy Posy." He took her hand, as it lay on the table, and pressed it affectionately, by way of apology for refusing his confidence.
Then, looking at Mrs. Delano, he said: "If I had only known the poor fellow was a slave, I might, perhaps, have done something to rescue him. But the Abolitionists are doing what can be done. They procured a writ of _habeas corpus_, and went on board "The King Cotton"; but they could neither find the slaves nor obtain any information from the captain. They are keeping watch on all vessels bound South, in which Mr. Goldwin and I are a.s.sisting them. There are at least twenty spies out on the wharves."
"I heartily wish you as much success as I have had in that kind of business," replied Mrs. Delano with a smile.
"O, I do hope they"ll be rescued," exclaimed Flora. "How shameful it is to have such laws, while we keep singing, in the face of the world, about "the land of the free, and the home of the brave." I don"t mean to sing that again; for it"s false."
"There"ll come an end to this some time or other, as surely as G.o.d reigns in the heavens," rejoined Blumenthal.
Two days pa.s.sed, and the unremitting efforts of Mr. Percival and Mr.
Jackson proved unavailing to obtain any clew to the fugitives. After an anxious consultation with Samuel E. Sewall, the wisest and kindest legal adviser in such cases, they reluctantly came to the conclusion that nothing more could be done without further information. As a last resort, Mr. Percival suggested a personal appeal to Mr. Bell.
"Rather a forlorn hope that," replied Francis Jackson. "He has named his ship for the king that rules over us all, trampling on freedom of pet.i.tion, freedom of debate, and even on freedom of locomotion."
"We will try," said Mr. Percival. "It is barely possible we may obtain some light on the subject."
Early in the evening they accordingly waited upon the merchant at his residence. When the servant informed him that two gentlemen wished to see him on business, he laid aside his meerschaum and the Courier, and said, "Show them in."