The White Rose of Memphis

by William C. Falkner

Wallingford continued to gain on his hated foe, while thoughts of revenge crowded all prudence or fear from his breast. He was thinking of the blood that had spouted against his breast from Viola’s side.

Mr. Haliman, owing to the treachery of the current, was encountering some difficulty in bringing his boat round to the shore, and, despite his vigorous efforts to drive her nozzle on the sand-bank, she swung round and began to drift further down.

Demar soon became convinced that he would not be able to overtake Harry in time to render any assistance. Consequently he began to call to Wallingford, begging him to wait until he could get to him; but the imprudent boy dashed forward without heeding the call. He might as readily have checked a tornado with a lady’s fan as Harry Wallingford, by reminding him of the danger into which he was rushing.

When Bowles became convinced that he would be overtaken before he could reach the shore, he slackened his efforts, and merely exerted sufficient motion to keep himself on the surface, being, no doubt, conscious of the great advantage which his superior strength would give him over his adversary in a duel fought in the water.

When Wallingford had arrived within twenty feet of his enemy, he began to move obliquely to the left, so as to come up where he would have the advantage of the current. Bowles turned round and leisurely floated on the surface of the water, eying his pursuer as if he were anxious to get hold of him; but Wallingford began to swim round the desperado. When he came up within six feet of him, he made a sudden dash forward and attempted to strike him on the head with the pistol which he still held in his hand, but at that instant the bright blade of a long dagger gleamed in the rays of the setting sun, as the arm of the outlaw descended toward Wallingford’s body.

A suppressed scream escaped the lips of a dozen ladies who witnessed the strange duel from the hurricane deck of the “White Rose,” as they saw the glittering steel being driven into Wallingford’s body.

Then commenced a hand-to-hand struggle, one using the pistol as a club, the other striking rapidly with the dagger; every now and then both parties would for a moment disappear under the water, then rise to the surface, grappling each other in a deadly embrace. Stains of blood began to appear on Wallingford’s shirt, and blood was streaming over his face.

Demar, finding that his efforts to render aid by swimming were fruitless, turned his course and went toward the yawl. Leaping into it, he urged the four men to pull for dear life, promising a handsome reward to the oarsmen if they could get to the combatants in time to save Wallingford’s life. After the combat had been continued for two or three minutes the parties separated for a moment, as if by mutual consent, in order to get a little breath, and to maneuver for advantage. Only a few seconds elapsed, however, before Bowles began to advance toward his antagonist, being anxious, no doubt, to end the combat before the yawl could come to Wallingford’s assistance, which was now not very far away. The two men now began to swim round each other, each seeking to get the benefit of the current. A scuffle then ensued, but here Wallingford’s activity stood him in good stead, for he managed to give a sudden twist, disappearing under the water, while Bowles swam round, watching the spot where Harry had gone under. But no little amount of astonishment was that which Bowles felt when he saw his wily foe rise up at least twenty feet away. Wallingford was up the stream, which circumstance would enable him to make a successful plunge, as he would be coming with, instead of against, the strong current.

The pilot had by this time succeeded in driving the nozzle of his boat against the bank, but in consequence of the treachery of the current, he had been compelled to strike the shore nearly a hundred yards below the point first designated by the commander.

The spectators were horrified to see that Wallingford’s face was covered with blood, and when he raised his body above the water they could see the blood spouting from a dozen wounds on his neck, face and shoulders. For several seconds he paused, as if endeavoring to take a little breath; then, giving his head a sudden shake as if to dash the bloody hair back from his face, he raised his body high up out of the water, and, quick as lightning, darted on his adversary, dealing him a tremendous blow on the back of the head with the butt end of the pistol. The sharp point of the hammer went crashing like a bullet through the villain’s skull, and the body of Ben Bowles sank, never to rise again until it and his soul were separated. The lifeless body of the desperate outlaw was found ten days afterward, floating in the water thirty miles from the spot where it and the soul parted. Wallingford, being completely overcome with fatigue and the loss of blood, was incapable of making any further exertion. He fell off of the piece of timber and disappeared under the water, but as he came up a few seconds afterward, Demar seized him by the wrist, as he was sinking the second time, and lifted him into the yawl, when he fell insensible on the floor. The lifeless body of the rash young man was hurriedly conveyed to a state-room on the “White Rose,” where Doctor Plaxico was instantly summoned to take charge of the case.