CHAPTER XXXVI.
ON THE VISCOUNTS TRACK.
Vengeance to God alone belongs;
But when I think of all my wrongs
My blood is liquid flame!
—Marmion.
While Ishmael and Judge Merlin still conversed the carriage was announced. A message was dispatched to Mr. Brudenell; but the messenger returned with the news that the gentleman had gone out.
Therefore Ishmael and the judge, taking Katie with them, entered the carriage and gave the order to be driven to the American consul's office.
The way was long, the carriage slow, and the judge boiling over with rage and impatience.
It was well for Judge Merlin that he had Ishmael Worth beside him to restrain his passion and guide his actions.
During the ride the young lawyer said:
"In conducting this affair, Judge Merlin, Lady Vincent's welfare must be our very first consideration."
"Oh, yes, yes!"
"To do her any good we must act with promptitude."
"Of course."
"But to act with promptitude, great sacrifices must be made."
"What sacrifices?"
"In the first place, you must lay aside your desire for vengeance upon the villainous kidnapers who brought your old servants here and sold them."
"Ah, but, Ishmael, I cannot bear to let them go unpunished."
"Believe me, no crime ever goes unpunished. These men, sooner or later, will be brought to justice. But if you attempt to prosecute them, you will be detained here for days, weeks, and perhaps even months. For, once having laid so grave a charge against any man, or set of men, you would be compelled to remain as a prosecuting witness against them. And the delay would be almost fatal to Lady Vincent, suffering as she must be the most extreme agony of suspense."
"I see! I see! Poor Claudia! she must be my only thought! I must leave the smuggler to the justice of Heaven. But it is a sacrifice, Ishmael."
"A necessary one, sir; but there is still another that you must make in order to hasten to the rescue of Lady Vincent."
"And that?"
"Is the sacrifice of a large sum of money. A large sum, even for a man of fortune like yourself, judge."
"And that fortune is not nearly so considerable as it is supposed to be, Ishmael. When I had paid over my daughter's dower, I left myself but a moderate independence."
"Nevertheless, judge, if it should take the whole of your funded property, you will gladly devote it to the vindication of your daughter's honor. We must be in England with our witnesses in time to arrest Lord Vincent and his accomplices before he has an opportunity of bringing on the divorce suit."
"Certainly."
"To do this you will have to expend a large sum of money in the repurchasing of the negroes; for you must be aware that their present owners, having bought them in good faith, will not relinquish them without a struggle, which would involve you in a long lawsuit, the issue of which would be very doubtful; for you must be aware that there are many knotty points in this case. Now, I put the question to you, whether you can, with safety to Lady Vincent, remain here for weeks or months, either as prosecutor in the criminal trial of the smugglers or as plaintiff in a civil suit with the purchasers of Lady Vincent's servants?"
"I cannot."
"Then do not attempt either to punish the kidnapers or wrest the slaves from the hands of their present owners. Our plan will be simply this: Take the consul with us to identify us, go to these owners, explain the facts, and offer to repurchase the negroes at once. They will, no doubt, gladly come to terms, rather than risk a lawsuit in which they would probably lose their purchase-money."
"I see. Yes, Ishmael. You are wise and right, as you always are," said the judge, with an air of conviction.
"All this business may be arranged in time for us to take passage on the 'Cadiz,' that sails on Saturday. Now, here we are at the consul's office," said Ishmael, as the carriage stopped at the door of the American consulate.
Leaving Katie in the carriage they alighted and entered. The consul was engaged, so that they were detained in the anteroom nearly half an hour; at the end of which four or five gentlemen were seen to issue from the inner room, and then the doorkeeper, with a bow, invited Judge Merlin's party to pass in.
Philip Tourneysee, the American consul for Havana at that time, was the eldest son of that General Tourneysee whom the reader has already met at the house of Judge Merlin in Washington. He had sought his present appointment because a residence in the West Indies had been recommended for his health. He was a slight, elegant, refined-looking man, with a clear complexion, bright auburn hair, and dark hazel eyes. The fine expression of his countenance alone redeemed it from effeminacy.
On seeing Judge Merlin enter with his party he arose smilingly to receive them.
"You are surprised to see me here again so soon, Philip," said the judge, as he seated himself in the chair placed for him by the consul.
"I cannot see you too often, judge," was the courteous answer.
"Hem! This is my friend, Mr. Worth, of the Washington bar. Mr. Worth, Mr. Tourneysee, our consul for the port of Havana," said the judge, with all his old-fashioned formality.
The gentlemen thus introduced bowed, and the consul offered a chair to his second visitor and then seated himself and looked attentive.
"We have come about the most awkward business that ever was taken in hand," said the judge; "the strangest and most infamous, also, that ever came before a criminal tribunal. But let that pass. What would you say, for instance, to the fact of an English nobleman turning slave-trader—and not only slave-trader, but slave-stealer?"
The consul looked perplexed and incredulous.
"I will tell you all about it," said the judge, who immediately commenced and related to the astonished consul the history of the abduction and sale of the three negroes by Lord Vincent, and their subsequent transportation to Cuba and second sale at Havana by the smugglers.
"You will, of course, cause instant search to be made for the guilty parties, and I will certainly give you every assistance in my power, both in my public capacity and as your private friend. We will go to work at once," said the consul warmly, placing his hand upon the bell.
"No," said the judge, arresting his motion. "I have consulted with my friend and counsel, Mr. Worth, and we have decided that the smugglers, who are, after all, but the subordinates in this guilty confederacy, must go unpursued and unpunished for the present."
"How?" inquired the consul, turning to Ishmael, as if he doubted his own ears.
"Yes, sir," said Ishmael calmly, "circumstances into which it is not necessary that we should now enter, render it absolutely necessary that we should be in England as soon as possible. It is equally necessary that we should take the negroes with us, not only as witnesses against their first abductor as to the fact of the abduction, but also as to other transactions of which they were cognizant previous to that event. We must therefore avoid lawsuits which would be likely to detain us here. We cannot delay our departure either to prosecute the smugglers for kidnaping, or to sue the purchasers for the recovery of the negroes. We must leave the smugglers to the retribution of Providence, and we must pay the purchasers for the negroes we wish to carry away with us. What, therefore, we would ask of your kindness is this—that you will go with us to the purchasers of these negroes and identify us, so as to smooth the way for a negotiation of our difficulties."
"Certainly, certainly. Let me see. I have an appointment here at two o'clock, but at three I will join you at any place you may name."
"Would our hotel be a convenient rendezvous for you?"
"Perfectly."
"Then we will detain you no longer," said Ishmael, rising.
The judge followed his example.
And both gentlemen shook hands with the consul and departed.
"I think," said Ishmael, as they took their seats in the carriage, "that we should take Katie immediately back to her owner. I understand from her that he is a man in the humbler walks of life, and therefore I think that he might be willing to close with us for a liberal advance upon the price paid the smuggler."
"Do so, if you please, Ishmael; I trust entirely to your discretion," answered the judge.
"Katie," said Ishmael to the old woman, who had never left the carriage, "can you direct us the way to find the man who bought you?"
"Not to save my precious life, couldn't I, honey. Because you see, I nebber can t'ink o' de barbareous names dey has to de streets in dis outlan'ish place. But I knows where I is well 'nough. An' I knows where it is—de shop, I mean. And so if you'll put me up alongside ob de driver I can point him which way to go an' where to stop," said Katie.
This proposition was agreed to. The carriage was stopped and Katie was let out and enthroned upon the seat beside the coachman, a Spaniard, whom she proceeded to direct more by signs and gestures than by words.
After a very circuitous route through the city they turned into a narrow street and stopped before a house partly confectionery and partly tobacco shop.
They alighted and went in, and found the proprietor doing duty behind his counter.
The study of the Spanish language had been one of the few recreations Ishmael had allowed himself in his self-denying youth. He had afterwards improved his opportunities by speaking the language with such Spaniards as he met in society in Washington. He therefore now addressed the tobacconist in that tongue, and proceeded to explain the business that brought himself and his friend to the shop.
The tobacconist, who was the ordinary, small, lean, yellow specimen of the middle class of Cubans, courteously invited the "senors" into the back parlor, where they all seated themselves and entered more fully into the subject, Ishmael acting as interpreter between the judge and the tobacconist, whose name they discovered to be Marinello.
Marinello expressed himself very much shocked to find that his purchase of the woman was illegal, if not positively felonious; and that an appeal to the law would probably deprive him of his bargain, and possibly criminate him as the accomplice of the slave stealer.
He said that he had given eight hundred dollars for the woman Katie, who had been extolled by the trader as a most extraordinary cook. And a "most extraordinary" one, he declared, he found her to be, for she did not appear to know beef from mutton or rice from coffee. And in fact she was good for nothing; for even if he sent her on an errand, as on this occasion, she would stay forever and one day after, and charge her sloth upon her infirmities. She had been a bitter bargain to him.
Judge Merlin smiled; he knew Katie to be one of the best cooks in this world and to be in the enjoyment of perfect health, and so he supposed that the cunning old woman had taken a lesson from the sailor's monkey, who could talk, but wouldn't, for fear he should be made to work. And that she had feigned her ignorance and ill health to escape hard labor for one who she knew could have no just claim to her services.
Ishmael, speaking for Judge Merlin, now explained to the tobacconist that this woman Katie had been a great favorite with the mistress from whom she was stolen; that they were on their way to see that lady, that they wished to take the woman with them; that they would rather repurchase her than lose time by suing to recover her; and finally, that they were willing to give him back the money that he had paid for Katie, provided that he would deliver her up to them at once.
Marinello immediately came to terms and agreed to all they proposed. He accompanied them back to the hotel, where he received eight hundred dollars and left Katie.
"That is a 'feat accomplished,'" said Ishmael gayly, as he returned to Judge Merlin's room, after seeing Marinello out; "and now we may expect Mr. Tourneysee every moment."
And in fact while he spoke the door was opened and Mr. Tourneysee was announced.
"I am up to time," he said, smiling, as he entered.
"With dramatic punctuality," said Ishmael, pointing to the clock on the mantel-piece, which was upon the stroke of three.
"Yes," said the consul, smiling.
"We have done a good stroke of business since we left you. We have bought Katie back from her new master at the same price he gave for her, and he was very glad to get out of the affair so happily," said Ishmael.
"Ah! that was prompt indeed. I wish you equal good speed with the other purchasers of stolen slaves. By the way, where do we go first?"
"I think we had best call on the lady who bought the girl Sally; from her—Sally, I mean—we might learn the name and residence of the gentleman who bought Jim, and of which we are at present in ignorance."
"Who is the lady, and where does she live?"
"We do not know her name either; Katie could not tell us; but she lives in the city, and Katie can direct the coachman where to drive. And now as the carriage is at the door, I think we had better start at once."
"I think so, too," said the judge.
And accordingly the whole party went downstairs and re-entered the carriage, with the exception of Katie, who again mounted the box beside the driver for the purpose of directing him.
Katie, who could not, if it were to save her life, remember the name of any place or person in that "barbareous" land, as she called it, yet possessed the canine memory of localities; so she directed the coachman through the shortest cut of the city towards the beautiful suburb Guadaloupe, and then to an elegant mansion of white granite, standing within its own luxuriant grounds.
On seeing the carriage draw up and stop before the gate of this aristocratic residence, the young consul suddenly changed color and said:
"This is the palace of the Senora Donna Eleanora Pacheco, Countess de la Santa Cruz."
"You know this lady?" inquired the judge.
Mr. Tourneysee bowed.
The porter threw open the great gate, and the carriage rolled along a lovely shaded avenue, up before the white marble facade of the palace, where it stopped.
"If you please, I will send your cards in with my own. As I am known to the senora, it may insure you a speedier audience."
"We thank you very much," said Ishmael, placing his own and the judge's cards in the hands of the consul, who alighted, went up the marble steps to the front door, and rang.
A footman opened the door, took in the cards, and after a few moments returned.
"The countess will see the senors," was the message that the consul smilingly brought back to his friends in the carriage.
Then all alighted and went into the house.
The same footman, a jet black young negro, in gorgeous livery of purple and gold, led them into a small, elegantly furnished reception room, where, seated on a sofa, and toying with a fan, was one of the loveliest little dark-eyed Creoles that ever was seen.
She did not rise, but extended her hand with a graceful gesture and gracious smile to welcome her visitors.
Tourneysee advanced, with a deep and reverential bow, that would have done honor to the gravest and most courteous hidalgo of that grave and courteous people.
"Senora," he said, with great formality, "I have the honor to present to your ladyship Chief Justice Merlin, of the United States Supreme Court. Judge Merlin, the Countess de la Santa Cruz."
The judge made a profound bow, which the lady acknowledged by a gracious bend of the head.
With the same serious and stately formality, which was certainly not natural to the young Marylander, but which was assumed, in deference to the grave character of Spanish etiquette, Mr. Tourneysee next presented:
"Mr. Worth, of the Washington bar."
The low obeisance of this visitor was received with even a more gracious smile than had been vouchsafed to that of the judge.
When they were seated, in accordance with the lady's invitation, the conversation turned upon the ordinary topics of the day: the weather; the opera; the last drawing room at the Government Palace; the new Captain General and his beautiful bride, etc., etc., etc.
The judge fidgeted; Ishmael was impatient; the consul perplexed. It was necessary to speak of the affair that brought them there. Yet how was it possible without offense to introduce any topic of business in that bower of beauty, to that indolent Venus, whose only occupation was to toy with her fan; whose only conversation was of sunshine, flowers, music, balls, and brides?
Clearly neither the judge nor the consul had the courage to obtrude any serious subject upon her. The disagreeable task was at length assumed by Ishmael, who never permitted himself to shrink from a duty merely because it was an unpleasant one.
Taking advantage, therefore, of a break in the conversation, he turned to the lady and, speaking with grave courtesy, said:
"Will the senora pardon me for beseeching her attention to an affair of great moment which has brought us to her presence?"
The "senora" lifted her long, curled lashes until they touched her brows, and opened wide her large, soft, dark eyes in childish wonder. "An affair of great moment!" What could it be? A masked ball? a parlor concert? private theatricals? a—what? She could not imagine. Dropping her eyelids demurely, she answered softly:
"Proceed, senor."
Ishmael then briefly explained to her the business upon which they had come.
The senora was as sensible as she was beautiful, and as benevolent as she was sensible. She listened to the story of the negroes' abduction with as much sympathy as curiosity, and at the end of the narrative she exclaimed:
"What villains there are in this world!"
Ishmael then delicately referred to their wish to purchase the girl
Sally.
The senora promptly assented to the implied desire.
"It was my steward, Miguel Manello, who bought her for me. I did not particularly want her. And I find her of very little use to me. She cannot understand one word that is said to her. And she does nothing from morning until night but weep, weep, weep tears enough to float away the house."
"Poor girl!" muttered Ishmael.
"So if the senor wishes to recover her he can take her now, or at any time."
Ishmael delicately hinted at the purchase money.
"Oh, I know nothing about such matters. I will send my steward to wait on the senor at his hotel this evening. The senor can then arrange the matter with him."
Ishmael expressed his thanks, arose, and bowed as if to take leave. But the lady waved her hand, and said in a sweet but peremptory manner:
"Be seated, senor."
With another inclination of the head, Ishmael resumed his seat. The lady rang a silver bell that stood on a stand at his right hand and brought to her presence the gorgeous, sable footman.
"Serve the senors with refreshments," was the order given and promptly obeyed.
An elegant little repast was set before them, consisting of delicious coffee, chocolate, fresh fruits, cakes, and sweetmeats. And only when they had done full justice to these delicacies would their hostess permit them to retire.
Again Ishmael bowed with profound deference, expressed his thanks on the part of himself and his friends, and finally took leave.
On going from the room they noticed a person, who, from the extreme quietness of her manner, had escaped their observation until this moment. She was a woman of about sixty years of age, clad in the habit of a lay-sister of the Benedictine Order, and seated within a curtained recess, and engaged in reading her "office." She was probably doing duty as duenna to the beautiful widow.