“I recognized on Clara’s wrist the other day a bracelet of your wife’s hair. How did she come by it? The reply was simple. Esha gave it to her. Clara is very fond of questioning me about you. She has learnt from me all the particulars of your wife’s tragical fate, and of the debt you yourself owe to the Slave Power. She takes the intensest interest in the war. Learning from me that my friend Cailloux was forming a secret league among the blacks in aid of the Union cause, she made me take five hundred dollars of the money left by Mr. Winslow for her in my possession, and this she sent to Cailloux with a letter. He wrote her in reply, that he wished no better end than to die fighting for the Union and for the elevation of his race.[[39]]
“I have not forgotten the importance of getting hold of Colonel Hyde. I have searched for him daily in the principal drinking-saloons, but have found no trace of him as yet. I have also kept up my search for my wife, having sent out two agents, who, I trust, may be more fortunate than I myself have been; for I sometimes think my own over-anxiety may have defeated my purpose. In making these searches I have availed myself of the means you have so generously placed at my disposal.
“The few Union men who are here are looking hopefully to the promised expedition of Farragut and Butler. But the Rebels are defiant and even contemptuous in their incredulity. They say our fleet can never pass Forts Jackson and St. Philip. And then they have an iron ram, on the efficacy of which they largely count. Furthermore, they mean to welcome us with bloody hands, &c.; die in the last ditch, &c. We shall see. This prayer suffices for me: God help the right! Adieu!
“Faithfully,
Peek.”
We have seen with what profound emotion Vance received the information, that the man whose formidable power was enclosing Clara in its folds was the same whose brutality had killed Estelle. Vance could no longer doubt that Clara and Perdita were identical. He looked in his memorandum-book to assure himself of the name of Clara’s father. Yes! Bender was right. There were the words: Henry Berwick.
Then putting on his hat Vance hurried to the War Office. Would the Secretary have the goodness to address a question to the officer commanding at Fort Lafayette? Certainly: it could be done instantly by telegraph. Have the goodness to ask if Mr. Ratcliff, of New Orleans, is still under secure confinement.
The click of the telegraph apparatus in the War Office was speedily heard, putting the desired interrogatory.
“Expect a reply in half an hour,” said the operator.
Vance looked at his watch, and then passed out into the paved corridor and walked up and down. He thought of Clara,—of the bracelet of his wife’s hair on her wrist. It moved him to tears. Was there not something in the identity in the position of these two young and lovely women that seemed to draw him by the subtle meshes of an overruling fate to Clara’s side? Could it be that Estelle herself, a guardian angel, was favoring the conjunction?