"Then Mr. Dumont and De Guy are the only persons concerned in the transaction?"
"Yes."
"You are positive?"
"Yes."
"Then, how comes it, Mr. Maxwell, that they have intrusted you with their secret? How came you by this knowledge?" said Hatchie, fiercely, as he prepared, apparently, to swing up the attorney.
Maxwell was staggered by this question, and Hatchie perceived his discomfiture. That Maxwell had any agency in the transaction he only suspected; certainly it was not he whom he had seen with Jaspar on the night of his escape from Bellevue. There was much evidence for and much against him.
Maxwell, unwilling to criminate himself, was in a sad dilemma; his ready wits alone could save him. But his hesitation procured him another instant of suffocation.
"I obtained the knowledge from De Guy," said he, at last.
"How! did he voluntarily betray the confidence of his employer?"
"No, from his inquiries concerning the affairs of the family, I suspected something; when the will was read my impressions were confirmed. I charged him with the crime."
"Did he acknowledge it?"
"He did."
"Then why did you not expose the plot?"
"It did not suit my purpose."
"What was your purpose?"
"To marry Miss Dumont."
The attorney"s answers seemed plausible. His actions were in conformity with his avowed purpose. If he wished to marry his mistress, he would not have joined in the plot. But the bill of sale, which Emily had mentioned to him, was against him. Poor Hatchie was no lawyer, and was sadly perplexed by the conflicting testimony.
"Where did you get that bill of sale?" said he.
Again the attorney hesitated, and again Hatchie pulled the rope till he was ready to answer.
"Is it a forgery?" said Hatchie, slackening the rope.
"Probably it is," replied Maxwell.
"Who wrote it?"
"De Guy."
"This De Guy is a most consummate villain, and shall yet be brought to justice. But how came it in your possession?"
"I received it from De Guy, as the agent of Mr. Dumont. In fine, I _bought_ the girl," said Maxwell, maliciously.
Hatchie"s temper had nearly got the better of him, for he made a spring on the rope, which threatened death to the attorney. But his judgment overcame his pa.s.sion, and he again turned his attention to the great object before him.
"Now, Mr. Maxwell, as you are a lawyer," said Hatchie, "you are aware of the disadvantages I shall labor under in making the evidence you have furnished me available."
"I am," replied the attorney. "Do you think I would have yielded to you, if I had not known it?"
"Have you told me the truth in these statements?" asked Hatchie.
The attorney hesitated; but a sharp twinge at the neck compelled him to say that he had.
"Then I shall be obliged to trouble you to repeat some of your revelations. Now, mark me, Mr. Maxwell; I am going to procure the woodman and his son, to witness your statements."
"Fool! what avail will they be, extorted with a rope about my neck?"
"Perhaps we may be able to show you some law such as you never read in your books. If, as I suspect, this carpet-bag contains papers, I doubt not we shall find something to confirm your evidence."
The face of the lawyer grew a shade paler; but he spoke not.
"Before I go, let me charge you, at your peril, not to be obstinate; for here I solemnly a.s.sure you that you shall swing by the branch above you, if you refuse to answer," said Hatchie, going towards the cabin.
The scene of this exploit was at some distance from the log-cabin of the woodman, and the mulatto had scarcely got out of sight before Vernon appeared. He had been at a little distance from the parties during the whole scene, but he had too much respect for the prowess of his late conqueror to venture on a rescue. He had once been tempted to do so, and had made the noise which had disturbed Hatchie. The blackleg, without much sympathy for his confederate, had rather regarded the whole scene as a good joke than as a serious affair; and, as he approached the lawyer, his merriment and keen satire were not relished by the victim.
"But how is it, Maxwell, about this will? You have never told me about it," said Vernon, who, ruffian as he was, believed in fair play.
"I will tell you another time; cut these ropes, and let us be off."
"But let me tell you, my fine fellow, that though I can rob a man who has enough, I would not be concerned in such a dirty game as this," said Vernon, as he severed the ropes which bound the attorney. "If you have been helping old Dumont to wrong his niece, may I be hanged, as that n.i.g.g.e.r would have served you, if I don"t blow the whole affair!"
"You know nothing about it; but, let me tell you, I am not concerned in the affair. The girl, I have no doubt, is a slave."
The confederates now made all haste to depart from their proximity to such dangers as both had incurred, and, by a circuitous way, reached the river, where, taking a boat, they rowed under the banks down stream.
Hatchie was disappointed, on his return, to find his prisoner had escaped. A diligent search, by the precaution of the confederates, was rendered fruitless.
CHAPTER XVIII.
"Why should my curiosity excite me To search and pry into the affairs of others, Who have to employ my thoughts so many cares And sorrows of my own?" LILLO.
Jaspar Dumont sat in the library at Bellevue. It was the evening after his return from Vicksburg. Near him, engaged in examining a heap of papers, was his new overseer, Dalhousie.
Jaspar was musing over the late turn his affairs had taken; and, while he congratulated himself on his present triumphant position, he could but regard with apprehension the future, which seemed to smile only to lure him on to certain destruction. The trite saying, "There is no peace for the wicked," is literally and universally true. The lowering brow, the threatening scowl, the suspicious glance, of the wicked uncle, were as reliable evidences of his misery as his naked soul, torn with doubt and anguish, could have been. Every new paper the overseer turned over produced a start of apprehension, lest it might contain evidence of his villany. His nerves had suffered terribly beneath the vision of guilt and punishment that constantly haunted him. His new overseer, whom he had partially admitted to his bosom as a confidant, had secured a strong hold upon his fears. His presence seemed necessary to cheer him in his lonely hours, to chase away the phantoms of vengeance that pursued him.
Hara.s.sed by doubts and fears, his const.i.tution was, in some degree, impaired, and his mind, losing the pillar upon which it rested, was p.r.o.ne to yield also.
Dalhousie examined with minuteness the papers to which his attention had been directed. Before him was a heap of doc.u.ments of various kinds, all in confusion,--bills and bonds, letters and deeds, were thrown promiscuously together. His purpose was to sort and file them away for future reference. This confusion among the papers was not the work of Colonel Dumont; he had been strictly methodical and accurate in all his business affairs. This fact was attested by the occasional strips of pasteboard, on which were marked various descriptions of papers, as well as by bits of red tape that had secured the bundles.