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The White Rose of Memphis
The White Rose of Memphisполная версия

Полная версия

The White Rose of Memphis

Язык: Английский
Год издания: 2017
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“‘Will you wish to send another dispatch?’ inquired the lad, who had been silently witnessing this painful scene. ‘If you do, sir, I can be ready to go again as soon as I can eat a bite and procure a fresh horse.’

“‘I shall want to send another dispatch at daylight in the morning.’

“My audience will readily understand what cause for grief I had when the dispatch is read. Here it is,

“‘DEAR EDDIE – The welcome news of your safety received, would to Heaven it had come a week sooner – it would have saved our dear Lottie’s life; but, alas! It came too late. Put your trust in God, my unfortunate boy, and bear your great sorrow as becomes a brave man. Lottie cannot possibly live more than forty-eight hours longer. She is sinking very fast. Her mind is perfectly clear, and when your dispatch was read to her she smiled sweetly as her eyes brightened up, then closing them, the tears began to stream from them. She pressed your picture to her lips, and said:

“‘“Poor Eddie, how glad I would be to see him before I die! Then I wish to see brother Harry, so he can forgive the wrong I have done him. I thought he had killed Eddie, and refused to believe him when he denied it.”

“‘She talks of you and Harry all the time. I wish it were so that you could get here before she dies. You might do it, if you get released in time for the up-train to-morrow evening. I will send another dispatch early in the morning.

“‘DODSON.’

“I had sent up so many silent but earnest prayers to God, in which I had implored and begged Him to let my dear Lottie live, that I was loth to believe He would take her from me. I could not realize the fact that her beautiful young person was to be consigned to the grave. When I had seen her last she was the very picture of health and life, her fair cheeks all aglow with vivacity, her large expressive eyes filled with evidences of hope, and her elastic step indicating strength and vigor. Now how was I to realize the fact that all this strength, health and vigor were gone, while that fair form was struggling in the very arms of death? The fact is, I was so bewildered with grief that I was unable to think correctly on the subject.

“Harry spent the night in my cell, and I can assert truthfully that he was more completely subdued by his deep grief than he ever had been before. I think that a great change was wrought in him on that occasion, which has since proved of no little benefit to him. His indomitable pride was partially cured, and his haughty spirit completely humbled; he threw himself prostrate on the floor, calling aloud to God for help. He did not rise from the floor during the night, though he never closed his eyes in sleep; sometimes he would remain silent for several minutes – perhaps he was praying; then again he would seem to be convulsed with his great sorrow. I paced the floor in silence, for I was sunk so deep in despair that I was scarcely able to command my voice. My heart yearned for freedom; my mind flew to Memphis and looked at my darling as she was wrestling with death.

“The first gray streaks of approaching dawn that came stealing through my small window were indeed a welcome sight to me. As soon as it was light enough to enable me to see to write, I penned a message to be immediately sent to Doctor Dodson. The messenger was promptly on hand at six o’clock, ready with a fresh horse to start with my dispatch, and long before the sun began to peep over the eastern hills he was dashing with great speed toward the telegraph office. He would be back with fresh news by eleven o’clock, by which time I had reason to believe I would be restored to liberty, and then I would fly to my darling. After the messenger was gone I instructed Harry to go out to the village and secure two of the best horses that could be found, and to have them ready saddled and hitched in the court-house yard, in order that we might be off instantly after the trial should be over. I knew that the trial would not consume much time, as the proof would be ample and unquestionable, and I thought maybe we might be able to start by ten o’clock.

“The rough blacksmith who had riveted the irons on my leg was employed the evening before the trial to cut them off, and I was enabled to secure a little exercise. In his rough, uncouth manner, the blacksmith apologized for the unkindness he had shown toward me when fastening the manacles on my limbs. As I was not in a mood to cherish ill-will, I accepted the blunt apology and extended my hand to the honest mechanic, who seized and gave it a hearty shake.

“‘Never saw two peas more alike than you and Debar! No wonder the officer took you for Debar; I was ready to swear that you were the identical man. It’s lucky they found out the blunder, ain’t it? They might have hung you by mistake; that would have been rather awkward, wouldn’t it?’

“I made no answer to this strange inquiry, for I was thinking about other things.

“Harry returned soon, and informed me that he had been so fortunate as to secure two splendid young horses, whose owner had informed him that they could take us to the station in two hours and a half, without any danger of hurting them. My dungeon door was now thrown open, and all restraint on my movements withdrawn.

“‘I thought you were the same scamp who broke jail and left me with the bag to hold,’ said the jailer. ‘Everybody was down on me for letting Debar get away when I couldn’t help it – some rascal furnished him with tools, and I knew nothing about it until he was gone; therefore, when they brought you here I thought you were the same man, and I didn’t care to be kind to the man who had acted so badly as Debar. You are the very image of Debar, and then your name sounds so much like his. I can detect a slight difference in the color of your hair and that of Debar; then he had a small scar on his forehead, just above the left eye. It was very slight, and quite small, not over half an inch long. I have his photograph here, and if you will look close you can see the scar very plain.’

“I looked at the picture, and sure enough the scar could be plainly seen. This circumstance of itself would justify Judge Flaxback in ordering my release; in fact, the trial would be a mere form to be complied with, as everybody now admitted that a mistake had been committed. The villagers discussed it on the street corners, and laughed over it, cracking their jokes, little dreaming of the awful consequences that had resulted to me by the mistake. I dare say that a vastly different feeling would have permeated the breasts of those people if they could have witnessed the dying agonies of poor Lottie Wallingford. If they had known how my heart was broken by the sad mistake, they would not have been laughing and joking about the matter as if it were a very funny coincidence. I could not eat my breakfast – my appetite was gone, but I drank a cup of warm tea, which the jailer’s wife was kind enough to bring to me. She seemed to sympathize with me when she found out how deeply I had been wronged. I looked at my watch every five minutes; I was full of impatience. It seemed that nine o’clock would never come – but nevertheless it did come at last. The town clock began to strike, when the jailer said it was time to go.”

CHAPTER XXVI

During the short recess the queen had agreed to allow, which was granted at the request of the Barbarian Chief, the excursionists assembled in various little groups on different parts of the boat, while most of them were discussing the merits of Ingomar’s story. George and the Duke of Wellington were seated apart from the other passengers, deeply interested in an animated discussion – the subject being the eccentric movements of the black domino and the unusual sadness of the queen.

“My lord,” observed the king, “did you notice that the queen fainted when those two men arrested Demar?”

“Of course I did! and that is not all – the lady in the black domino fainted, too, when the Barbarian Chief was arrested.”

“Now, I would like very much to know who this Barbarian Chief is, and why both of those women should manage to faint about him. I have never been so fortunate as to have as much as one woman care enough about me to faint for me.”

“As to that, I am decidedly of the opinion that you have lost nothing on that score; but, between you and me, there is something mysterious connected with that woman in the black domino. So far as the queen is concerned, I imagine that she is one of those good-hearted, sympathetic women, the kind who have more tears than talent – a sort of Niobe.”

“Look at that man yonder leaning against the corner of the Texas, and see if you can discover anything singular about him.”

“Why, that is Henry of Navarre; of course there is nothing strange about him. Why do you ask the question?”

“He is not the man who wore that uniform when we started from Memphis.”

“Why do you conclude that he is not the one who personated Navarre at the ball?”

“He is not quite so tall, but has a more dignified carriage; and then he does not mingle with us, or participate in any of our amusements, as the real Navarre did. The original Napoleon has also slipped out of his costume, and a counterfeit has slipped in; and the strangest part of the mystery is that no one knows what has become of the parties who originally personated Navarre and Napoleon. Now if this is done in order to enable those men to play a little joke on the ladies, there is no harm in it, but I suspect that some sort of mischief is afloat. I guess it will appear in the wind-up that these two men, and the black domino, are in some way interested in each other; and you may be sure, if they are, that it will produce mischief.”

“The truth is, we are all engaged in playing a farce, and I am heartily ashamed of my part of it – it reminds me of Shakespeare’s ‘Much Ado About Nothing.’”

“I cannot by any means indorse that idea, for I have been very much interested in Ingomar’s story.”

“It is too tedious. Give me something lively – something to make me laugh – such as ‘Bill Arp,’ or ‘Artemus Ward,’ ‘Don Quixote,’ or ‘Mark Twain.’”

“I prefer love stories. I like to read about women who prefer death to a loveless marriage, and men who are always getting into scrapes in attempting to protect virtue.”

“I guess, then, you like the ‘Bride of Lammermoor’ and the ‘Talisman’?”

“Yes, and all the other thrilling novels written by Sir Walter Scott.”

Don Quixote now came up and joined the king and duke in the conversation, which soon drifted back to the lady in the black domino.

“By the by,” exclaimed Don Quixote, “I think that mysterious woman is about to stir up a row between Napoleon and Navarre. The cauldron is boiling and bubbling furiously, and blood is on the face of the moon.”

“How do you know that blood is on the moon, when that planet is on the other side of the globe?”

“Of course you understand I was speaking metaphorically as to that; but really, I should not be at all surprised to hear of a requisition being made for pistols and coffins for two. To be more explicit, I think a duel is on the tapis.”

“Now, sir knight,” said the duke, “if you are in possession of any news that will in any manner relieve our minds about that strange woman, I earnestly beg you to let us hear it at once; for you know what a deluge of curiosity she has manufactured on this boat.”

“I am very sorry to be unable to furnish any information on that point of a reliable nature – all is conjecture as far as the black domino is concerned; she has had a long interview with the captain. I happened to hear enough of the conversation to convince me that Navarre and Napoleon were the parties discussed; then the captain appeared to be angry, and I distinctly heard him mutter an oath or two, after he parted with the black domino. Colonel Confed informed me that a duel was likely to be fought, and that the lady in the black domino was at the bottom of it, but he refused to mention the names of the parties to the quarrel; though I am convinced from what I have heard that Navarre and Napoleon are to be the combatants.”

“I guess it will turn out to be a tempest in a teapot, or a mouse born of a mountain,” replied the duke, as he handed the king and Don Quixote a fresh cigar; “I wish,” continued the duke, “that Colonel Confed and General Camphollower would cease their continual clamor about politics; they have bored every man on this boat half to death, and each one seems to imagine that the fate of the nation depends on his opinions.”

“They have succeeded in bridging the bloody chasm; but they have split on the state rights question; they have generously consented that the war shall be considered at an end.”

“Now, that indeed was very kind of them, for I dislike to hear people continually harping on the war; but let that pass, and we will go back to the subject. Did you tell the captain that Napoleon and Navarre were interlopers, intruders, counterfeits, wolves in sheep’s clothing?”

“How could I impart information that I did not possess myself? What do you mean by intruders, interlopers, etc., etc.?”

Then the duke imparted to Don Quixote the grounds of his suspicion.

“They are not the same men who personated Navarre and Napoleon at the ball; I would risk anything on the truth of my assertion; and they are both spotting the black domino.”

“If that is true,” replied Don Quixote, “it is our duty to mention it to the captain without delay; and, gentlemen, I further suggest that we combine our wits, and, if possible, prevent any hostile meeting, if such is contemplated by any of our excursionists. In the first place, I am opposed to the barbarous practice of dueling upon principle; then it is prohibited by the laws of the land, and positively contrary to God’s holy ordinances. In addition to all these objections, we must remember that a duel might put an end to all of our innocent amusements; therefore I wish to know whether you will co-operate with me in the effort to prevent it?”

“We certainly think your views very correct, and will gladly join you in your peaceful mission; but I am of the opinion that it is a false alarm.”

It required some ten or fifteen minutes to collect the entire party, for they were scattered about the boat, deeply interested in conversation. Nearly every one of the maskers had been discussing the mysterious woman in the black domino. At length the queen ascended her throne, and, after a moment’s pause, ordered Ingomar to proceed.

“When I was conducted into the court-room by the deputy sheriff, his Honor, Judge Flaxback, occupied the judicial bench; fixing his little round eyes on me, he surveyed me like a snake endeavoring to charm a bird. A large crowd of village idlers had assembled in the house, attracted there, no doubt, by the peculiarity of the case. Flaxback reminded me of an Egyptian mummy that I had seen in a museum. He was a little dried-up specimen of decaying humanity, exhibiting in his person and dress unmistakable evidence of dissipation and dilapidation. His nose had evidently been broken with a heavy blow of some sort, for an ugly scar was apparent running horizontally across his face, while his nostrils flared outward, presenting rather an ugly appearance. He rested his chin on a plank in front of his seat, and continued to gaze at me with a lazy, half-asleep sort of a stare that caused my cheeks to burn with indignation. Every man in the room had his eyes riveted on me, staring with open mouth as children do at an elephant, while Flaxback seemed to be waiting for the inspection to be completed before proceeding with the case. When a drop of blood starts from such a man’s heart, with a view of making a journey to his extremities to furnish a little life to them, it bids a long adieu to its home, knowing that the chances are ten to one in favor of its freezing to death on the way. I sat and impatiently watched the strange looking judge, wondering why he did not proceed to dispose of my case. He continued to eye me for full thirty seconds, and then in a voice sounding like that made with a file when being need to sharpen a handsaw, he ordered the clerk to read the sheriff’s return on the writ of habeas corpus.

“‘No return made, sir,’ said the clerk, as he began to grab promiscuously about, snatching up every paper in sight, and looking as if he were hunting for a small hole to crawl into.

“‘Where’s the sheriff?’ demanded the judge, in a voice which was evidently meant to be loud and threatening, but which really did not amount to a respectable whine.

“‘Fact is, may it please your Honor,’ said Mr. Deediddle, ‘the sheriff has just stepped over to Mr. Dick Sninkle’s saloon to get a glass of water.’

“A smile might have been seen on the faces of a majority of the spectators – they all knew that water did not agree with the sheriff. The officer soon made his appearance, and the judge asked him why he had neglected to return the writ.

“‘The writ commanded me to bring the body of Edward Demar before the court, and here he is; what else could I do?’

“‘Mr. Clerk,’ said Flaxback, ‘enter a fine of ten dollars against Mr. Postholder, for failing to return the writ, and unless the return is instantly made, the fine will be doubled.’

“The sheriff was so badly confused that he did not know what he was about; he cast an imploring look at the clerk, made a dash at a pile of papers on the clerk’s desk, then looked up at the ceiling, like an old duck listening for thunder when her puddle had gone dry.

“While all this nonsense was being exhibited, I was sitting there suffering indescribable torture; every moment of time seemed to be worth a mint of money to me, yet it was being wasted by those people as if it were valueless. There is no telling when the farce would have ended, but for Harry’s thoughtfulness. He took the writ, and in three minutes wrote out the return and requested the sheriff to sign it, which he was very glad to do; he would have signed his own death warrant then without objection. Mr. Deediddle now made a raid to the front, and began to address the court.

“‘Fact is, your Honor, it is unnecessary to enter into an investigation of the circumstances connected with the murder of Mr. Clanton, as this is purely a question of personal identity. If the prisoner at the bar is not Edward Debar, why of course he will be discharged – fact, sir – fact.’

“The district attorney consented that the investigation might be confined to the question of personal identity.

“‘Swear your witness, Mr. Clerk,’ growled the judge.

“The clerk began to hunt for the Bible.

“‘Why don’t you swear your witnesses, Mr. Clerk?’ screamed the judge impatiently.

“The clerk became more confused; he grabbed up a book which he thought was the Bible, but when he found out that it was Mark Twain’s ‘Innocents Abroad,’ he let it fall on the floor, and began to grab at everything in the shape of a book.

“‘If you don’t swear these witnesses, Mr. Clerk, I’ll send you to jail!’ screamed Flaxback.

“By this time the clerk could have been passed off as a first-class maniac; his actions were frightful; he threw out both hands in every direction, and at last snatched up George’s Digest, and swore the witnesses on it before he discovered his mistake.

“‘Mrs. Debar was put on the stand first. She testified to the fact that while I was very much like her husband, I was not the man. The district attorney put her through a rigid cross-examination – not because he thought she was swearing falsely, but he had a suspicion that she had aided her husband in making his escape.

“‘Mrs. Debar,’ said the district attorney, ‘didn’t you smuggle the tools into the jail to enable your husband to effect his escape?’

“Harry sprang to his feet in a moment, his eyes flashing with anger; I trembled, because I was afraid he was going to commit some imprudent act that might detain us, when I was so anxious to be flying toward Lottie; but I had cause to change my mind very soon, for he made a modest, but eloquent, appeal to the court in behalf of the unfortunate wife, who was in tears.

“‘I appeal to this honorable court,’ said he, ‘to protect this unfortunate lady; her condition is such as to entitle her to the sympathies of all good men. The law does not require her to answer questions that would tend to criminate her; and even if the law did not protect her, the dictates of common humanity should be a sufficient motive to induce the honorable attorney for the State to withdraw such a question. We must remember that we have been taught to admire the devotion which a wife feels for her husband. A true wife will not forsake her husband when misfortunes overtake him; but the greater his troubles are the closer she will cling to him; and it should prompt every true gentleman to respect the noble sentiment of love that induces her to do it.’

“When Harry took his seat a murmur of approval was heard among the spectators, and the district attorney said:

“‘I fully indorse the sentiments so eloquently expressed by my young friend, and will therefore not press the question further; I will also say to the court that I am fully satisfied that Mr. Demar has been unjustly imprisoned. I was well acquainted with Edward Debar; and I hesitate not to say that I never saw two men so much alike as he and Mr. Demar; though if they were both present I think a considerable difference might be detected. Debar had a slight scar over his left eye, which alone would be sufficient to distinguish him from the prisoner now at the bar. I therefore give my consent, if the court please, that Mr. Demar may be discharged.’

“‘Let the prisoner be discharged, Mr. Sheriff,’ growled the judge, as he ordered the officer to adjourn court, and the great farce was ended.

“No doubt the judge and all of his officers imagined that they had done for me a very great favor in releasing me, for which it was my duty to feel grateful. Now, I am in favor of a faithful enforcement of the laws; but the law is often used by unworthy men as a means of oppression. Judicial murder has been committed in the State where I was so unjustly punished by imprisonment. The case of young Boynton, mentioned by Mr. Wharton in his treatise on criminal law, might be cited in proof of this. That poor boy was hung by the neck until he was dead for a crime he did not commit. He was a mere lad, only eighteen. He was charged with the murder of Mr. Ellis; and when he was led out by the sheriff to be executed, he began to scream and beg the spectators to save him, declaring before God that he was innocent. He leaped from the scaffold into the arms of the assembled multitude, imploring them to protect him. Poor boy! he was put to death, and before his body had mingled, with the dust the real murderer died, and on his death-bed confessed that he had murdered Mr. Ellis, and that young Boynton was innocent. This scene was enacted in a county adjoining the one where I had been so unjustly held as a prisoner. Who shall be able to repair the injury so wrongfully inflicted on me? Who will ever know the extent of the wrong?

“Three minutes had scarcely elapsed after my release, when Harry and I were mounted on our high-mettled steeds, and dashing down the road at a rapid speed. I knew that if we got to the station in time to meet the north-bound train, we would have to press our horses to their utmost powers. Our steeds were young, vigorous and full of good mettle, and needed no whip or spur to urge them on.

“‘Let them go as fast as you like,’ said the owner of the noble animals, as he handed me the reins; ‘they have excellent bottom, and will carry you as swift as the wind.’

“We had much uneven ground to pass over, many tall hills to climb and innumerable gullies to leap, but we never halted – on, on we dashed.

“We had placed ten miles of ground between us and the village of P – when I saw the courier coming at a gallop to meet me; his horse was foaming with perspiration, convincing me that he had been hard pressed. The lad dashed up, and handed me a dispatch.

“‘I had to wait two hours at the office before the answer came,’ said the boy, as he placed the envelope in my hand.

“This time I was prepared for the awful news; hence I did not feel such a shock as I had felt when the other dispatch was handed to me, though the news was worse than that contained in the first telegram. But you would probably understand matters better by hearing the telegram read; it is from Doctor Dodson, who remained with Lottie all the time:

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