"O, Hatchie! what do I not owe you for this service!"
"I am so happy to serve you, Miss Emily!" replied Hatchie, rejoiced to hear again his mistress" voice.
"You have been my best friend in this season of adversity. Without you, I had been lost forever. But let us do what we may for these poor people, who have, I fear, sacrificed their lives in my defence."
The inanimate form of Mrs. Swinger was placed upon the bed by Hatchie, and, while Emily endeavored to ascertain the nature of her wound, the mulatto examined into Jerry"s condition. The worthy woodman had only been stunned by the blow, and Hatchie"s vigorous application soon restored him to consciousness. With the a.s.sistance of the mulatto, he rose. Looking wildly around him, he discovered the form of Vernon upon the floor. This seemed to recall his recollection of the events of the hour.
"Whar"s Suke?" said he.
Then perceiving her outstretched form upon the bed, he calmly, but very sorrowfully, asked, "Is she dead?"
"No, thank G.o.d! she is not dead; but I fear she is badly injured,"
replied Emily, who was still bending over the sufferer.
The woodman approached the bed-side, and, observing the faint breathing which gently heaved her chest, he seemed comforted.
"Whar"s the wound?" asked he, in a melancholy tone.
"In her side," replied Emily; "the bullet seems to have penetrated the region below the heart."
"Poor gal! I"m feered it"s all up with her. She has been a good woman to me."
"I am afraid my visit to your house will prove a sad day to you, even if she recovers," said Emily, in a sad tone.
"No, stranger, no! Suke would have died any day to save a neighbor from misery;" and the woodman"s eyes filled with tears at the remembrance of his humble companion"s virtues.
"But let us hope for the best. Is there a physician in the vicinity?"
"Ay, stranger, there is one that sometimes helps the poor folks about here."
"Then, Hatchie, you can go for him."
"Stop a little! The doctor is an oncommon strange man, and lives on an island down the bend."
"I will go for him," said Hatchie.
"I dar say; but whar you gwine? that"s the pint. n.o.body can find the way that warn"t there before. My son, Jim, will soon be here."
"But we must be as speedy as possible," suggested Emily.
The arrival of the woodman"s son terminated the difficulty. It was arranged that Hatchie should go with him, to a.s.sist in rowing back.
As they were about to depart, Vernon showed signs of returning life, and Hatchie conveyed him to an out-building till a more convenient season, and then dismissed the negro and his vehicle, which had been brought to convey Emily to Vicksburg.
CHAPTER XVI.
"Then rose from sea to sky the wild farewell; Then shrieked the timid, and stood still the brave; Then some leaped overboard with dreadful yell, As eager to antic.i.p.ate their grave." BYRON.
We left the Chalmetta in a situation which demands explanation.
Emily retired to her state-room on that dreadful night entirely relieved from the distressing antic.i.p.ations which had before oppressed her. Her name and her home were virtually restored to her. The foul stain upon the honor of her father had been removed. Doubt and fear scarcely disturbed her; the battle yet to be fought seemed but a trifle. Maxwell had said her uncle was left at a wood-yard. This was strange. It looked not like an accident, but the doing of the wily attorney; and perhaps Jaspar had voluntarily withdrawn; perhaps her uncle had made _her_ the reward of Maxwell"s silence. But these reflections were now robbed of their bitterness. She felt that in Henry Carroll she had a sufficient protection.
She retired to her state-room with a light heart, and even Maxwell"s villanous designs were forgotten as she revelled in the bright hopes before her. She knew nothing of the foul plot which had been concocted for her abduction. She knew not that Henry Carroll was then watching over her. In blissful ignorance of the danger that hovered near her, she sunk into the quiet sleep of innocence.
After midnight her slumbers were disturbed by the unusual creaking of the boat, and the hasty puffs of steam from the escape-pipes. She awoke, and was at once sensible of the immense pressure to which the boilers were subjected. Awhile she lay and listened to the ominous sounds which indicated the danger of the boat; then, much alarmed, she rose and dressed herself. For nearly an hour she sat in the darkness of the room, during which time the danger seemed momentarily to increase, until, no longer able to endure such agonizing suspense, she was about to leave the room. At this moment Vernon was about to enter, when the explosion took place.
The forward part of the Chalmetta was completely torn in pieces. The gentlemen"s cabin was lifted from its supports, and torn into fragments.
The unfortunate occupants of berths in this part of the boat were either instantly killed or severely wounded. The ladies" cabin, being at a greater distance from the immediate scene of the explosion, had not suffered so severely. Although torn from its position, and shattered by the shock, it had proved fatal to but a few of its occupants, who had been crushed by falling timbers. The hull of the boat was not injured by the explosion, but before those who had escaped a sudden death could recover their disordered faculties, the flames began to ascend from the wreck of the cabin, which had been precipitated upon the furnaces.
The scene surpa.s.sed description. The groans of the wounded and scalded, the shrieks of those who were on the boat, expecting every moment to be carried down in her, mingled in wild confusion on the midnight air.
Fortunately the pa.s.sengers were mostly soldiers, accustomed to scenes of horror, who immediately turned their attention to the extinguishing of the flames. The Flatfoot, No. 3, approached within a short distance of the wreck, and a line was pa.s.sed from her to the bow of the Chalmetta.
Her pa.s.sengers and crew were humanely a.s.sisting in rescuing those who had jumped or been thrown overboard in the disaster.
By the aid of a fire-engine on board of the Flatfoot, which had approached near enough to render it available, the flames were extinguished. It was ascertained that the Chalmetta had received no serious damage in her hull; and as all the survivors had been picked up, the Flatfoot took her in tow, and proceeded up the river.
Emily had been stunned by the explosion, and ere she could recover, Vernon, with a strong arm, bore her to the main deck. The boat was lowered into the water, and, before the pa.s.sengers, or the petrified watch in the hold, could regain their self-possession, it was impelled by the strong arm of Vernon, and the ruffian who had been hired for the purpose, far astern of the wreck.
The main deck was enveloped in clouds of steam, so that, when Vernon had handed Emily down, the movement could not be seen by Hatchie and his friends in the hold. In another instant the wreck of the cabins came tumbling down.
Hatchie, understanding at once the nature of the calamity, made his way, as well as he was able, through the shattered ruins to the stern, where he discovered that the boat was gone. The flames from the forward part of the boat now enabled him to discover the abductors of Emily rowing down the river. Leaping into the water, he seized a door, which was floating near him, and thus enabled to sustain himself with tolerable ease, he swam after them.
Emily, on recovering from the shock, found herself reclining on the shoulder of a man in an open boat. The first impulse of her pious heart was to return thanks to the Almighty preserver that she had been rescued from a terrible death. Her thoughts then turned to her deliverer, for such she supposed was the person in the boat with her. Who was he? Was it Henry Carroll? She hoped it was. She raised her head from the position in which Maxwell had placed it, and endeavored to distinguish his features; but the darkness defeated her wish.
"Fear nothing, lady; you are safe," said Maxwell.
The voice was like the knell of doom. It grated harshly upon her ears, and gave rise to a thousand fears in her timid heart.
"Thank G.o.d, I am safe!" said she, after a pause.
"And I thank G.o.d I have been the means of preserving you," replied Maxwell, willing to render the terrible calamity an accessory to his crime.
"But why do you go this way?" asked Emily, as she saw the Flatfoot approach the wreck.
"I only wish to convey you from the scene of danger."
"Then why not go to that steamer?"
"Probably she is by this time converted into a hospital for the sufferers. I would not shock your delicate nerves with such a scene of woe and misery as will be on board of her."
"May we not render some a.s.sistance?"
"No doubt there are more a.s.sistants than can labor to advantage now."
Emily was silent, but not satisfied. Her fears in some measure subsided, when, about two miles below the scene of the disaster, Maxwell ordered the boat to be put in at a wood-yard. The attorney was all gentleness, and a.s.sisted her to the cabin of Jerry Swinger, the owner of the wood-yard.