This person was the reader's old acquaintance, Vernon,—or, more properly, Jerome Vaudelier, whose intervening history we are now called upon to relate. It will be remembered that, at the request of his father, and at the earnest desire of Henry Carroll, as well as by the promptings of his own wish to do justice to the heiress, he had gone to Vicksburg, for the purpose of keeping an eye on the movements of Maxwell. On his arrival at the hotel, he found the attorney, and dined With him; but after dinner he suddenly and mysteriously disappeared. All Vernon's inquiries were of no avail. The landlord said he had paid his bill, and that was the last he had seen of him. Vernon was perplexed, and on learning that no boat had left since dinner, he was at a loss which way to proceed. Late in the afternoon he obtained, as he thought, some clue to him; and he departed, without loss of time, to Jackson, whither the attorney was supposed to have gone. His search, however, was futile, and he returned to Vicksburg by the morning train. Much disheartened, he was compelled to go to Cottage Island with the intelligence that his efforts had been foiled. On his arrival, he learned, to his astonishment, that Emily had just gone to Bellevue in company with De Guy—a person of whom he had no knowledge.
Though Dr. Vaudelier and Henry Carroll had been satisfied with the evidences brought by De Guy, Vernon was not. He knew better than they the character of Maxwell, and it was determined that he should proceed immediately to New Orleans, to guard against the possibility of any evil to which Emily might be subjected.
On the morning after De Guy's departure, he proceeded down the river, and landed in the vicinity of Bellevue, to which he immediately made his way. Without a direct application to any one, he learned that Emily had not yet arrived. He waited in the vicinity another day, but obtained no tidings of her. His worst fears were now confirmed. De Guy had deceived them.
This De Guy, then, was an emissary of Maxwell. To his mind, now animated by a high purpose, the reflection was annoying. To the fate of Emily his new destiny seemed to be attached. His greatest error—at least, the one most troublesome to his awakened conscience—was the act of oppressing Emily. He felt that the washing of the stains from his character depended upon securing her rights.
The ci devant desperado, as we have before indicated, was radically changed at heart, and he now felt more interest in the welfare of Emily than he had ever before harbored for any human being.
His position was full of embarrassments. He learned, while at Bellevue, that Jaspar was not, and had not been, sick. This information decided his future course. The mission of De Guy had only been a decoy, to lure her into the hands of Maxwell.
Hatchie was with her; but, alas! what could a slave do against the powerful machinations of such a villain as Maxwell?
After obtaining the information which satisfied him of the imposture, he proceeded to New Orleans. Knowing the name of the steamer in which De Guy had taken passage from Vicksburg, he hastened to the levee, to gain what tidings he might from the officers of the Montezuma. He found that a lady and gentleman answering to his description had taken a carriage on the morning of their arrival, and this was all they knew. In answer to his inquiries for Hatchie, he learned that a servant had been handed over to the police, to be imprisoned in the calaboose till called for.
This was scanty information upon which to continue his search. His first step was to go to the calaboose, where he managed to obtain an interview with Hatchie. The poor fellow was in an agony of grief,—not on his own account, but on that of his mistress, for he well understood the reason of this imprisonment.
Hatchie, of course, could give him no information of the whereabouts of Emily, nor offer any suggestion; and Vernon was compelled to leave the disheartened mulatto, with only a promise of speedily effecting his deliverance.