CHAPTER XIX.
THE DEAD ALIVE.
It was early in the month of August when Brandon visited the quarantinestation at Gosse Island, Quebec. A low, wooden building stood near thelanding, with a sign over the door containing only the word "OFFICE."To this building Brandon directed his steps. On entering he saw only oneclerk there.
"Are you the superintendent?" he asked, bowing courteously.
"No," said the clerk. "He is in Quebec just now."
"Perhaps you can give me the information that I want."
"What is it?"
"I have been sent to inquire after some passengers that came out herelast year."
"Oh yes, I can tell all that can be told," said the clerk, readily. "Wehave the registration books here, and you are at liberty to look up anynames you wish. Step this way, please." And he led the way to an inneroffice.
"What year did they come out in?" asked the clerk.
"Last year."
"Last year--an awful year to look up. 1846--yes, here is the book forthat year--a year which you are aware was an unparalleled one."
"I have heard so."
"Do you know the name of the ship?"
"The _Tecumseh_."
"The _Tecumseh_!" exclaimed the clerk, with a startled look. "That isan awful name in our records. I am sorry you have not another name toexamine, for the _Tecumseh_ was the worst of all."
Brandon bowed.
"The _Tecumseh_," continued the clerk, turning over the leaves of thebook as it lay on the desk. "The _Tecumseh_, from Liverpool, sailed June2, arrived August 16. Here you see the names of those who died at sea,copied from the ship's books, and those who died on shore. It is afrightful mortality. Would you like to look over the list?"
Brandon bowed and advanced to the desk.
"The deaths on board ship show whether they were seamen or passengers,and the passengers are marked as cabin and steerage. But after landingit was impossible to keep an account of classes."
Brandon carefully ran his eye down the long list, and read each name.Those for which he looked did not appear. At last he came to the listof those who had died on shore. After reading a few names his eye wasarrested by one--
"_Brandon, Elizabeth_."
It was his mother. He read on. He soon came to another--
"_Brandon, Edith_." It was his sister.
"Do you find any of the names?" asked the clerk, seeing Brandon turn hishead.
"Yes," said Brandon; "this is one," and he pointed to the last name."But I see a mark opposite that name. What is it? 'B' and 'A.' What isthe meaning?" "Is that party a relative of yours?"
"No," said Brandon.
"You don't mind hearing something horrible, then?"
"No."
The clerk drew a long breath.
"Well, Sir, those letters were written by the late superintendent. Thepoor man is now a lunatic. He was here last year.
"You see this is how it was: The ship-fever broke out. The numberof sick was awful, and there were no preparations for them here. Thedisease in some respects was worse than cholera, and there was nothingbut confusion. Very many died from lack of nursing. But the worstfeature of the whole thing was the hurried burials.
"I was not here last year, and all who were here then have left. ButI've heard enough to make me sick with horror. You perhaps are awarethat in this ship-fever there sometimes occurs a total loss of sense,which is apt to be mistaken for death?"
The clerk paused. Brandon regarded him steadily for a moment. Then heturned, and looked earnestly at the book.
"The burials were very hastily made."
"Well?"
"And it is now believed that some were buried in a state of trance."
"Buried alive?"
"Buried alive!"
There was a long silence. Brandon's eyes were fixed on the book. At lasthe pointed to the name of Edith Brandon.
"Then, I suppose," he said, in a steady voice, which, however, was in achanged key, "these letters 'B' and 'A' are intended to mean somethingof that description?"
"Something of that sort," replied the clerk.
Brandon drew a long breath.
"But there is no certainty about it in this particular case. I will tellyou how these marks happened to be made. The clerk that was here lasttold me.
"One morning, according to him, the superintendent came in, looking verymuch excited and altered. He went to this book, where the entries ofburials had been made on the preceding evening. This name was third fromthe last. Twelve had been buried. He penciled these letters there andleft. People did not notice him: every body was sick or busy. At lastin the evening of the next day, when they were to bury a new lot, theyfound the superintendent digging at the grave the third from the last.They tried to stop him, but he shouted and moaned alternately 'Buriedalive!' 'Buried alive!' In fact they saw that he was crazy, and had toconfine him at once."
"Did they examine the grave?"
"Yes. The woman told my predecessor that she and her husband--who didthe burying--had examined it, and found the body not only dead, butcorrupt. So there's no doubt of it. That party must have been dead atany rate."
"Who was the woman?"
"An old woman that laid them out. She and her husband buried them."
"Where is she now?"
"I don't know."
"Does she stay here yet?"
"No. She left last year."
"What became of the superintendent?"
"He was taken home, but grew no better. At last he had to be sent to anasylum. Some examination was made by the authorities, but nothing evercame of it. The papers made no mention of the affair, and it was hushedup."
Brandon read on. At last he came to another name. It was simply this:"_Brandon_." There was a slight movement on the clerk's part as Brandoncame to this name. "There is no Christian name here," said Brandon. "Isuppose they did not know it."
"Well," said the clerk, "there's something peculiar about that. Theformer clerk never mentioned it to any body but me. That man didn't dieat all."
"What do you mean?" said Brandon, who could scarcely speak for thetremendous struggle between hope and despair that was going on withinhim.
"It's a false entry."
"How?"
"The superintendent wrote that. See, the handwriting is different fromthe others. One is that of the clerk who made all these entries; theother is the superintendent's."
Brandon looked and saw that this was the case.
"What was the cause of that?"
"The clerk told me that after making these next fifteen entries ofburied parties--buried the evening after these last twelve--he went awayto see about something. When he came back the next morning this name waswritten in the superintendent's hand. He did not know what to think ofit, so he concluded to ask the superintendent; but in the course of theday he heard that he was mad and in confinement, as I have told you."
"Then you mean that this is not an entry of a death at all."
"Yes. The fact is, the superintendent for some reason got it into hishead that this Brandon"--and he pointed to Edith's name--"had beenburied alive. He brooded over the name, and among other things wrote itdown here at the end of the list for the day. That's the way in which mypredecessor accounted for it."
"It is a very natural one," said Brandon.
"Quite so." The clerk let it stand. You see, if he had erased it, hemight have been overhauled, and there would have been a committee. Hewas afraid of that; so he thought it better to say nothing about it. Hewouldn't have told me, only he said that a party came here once for alist of all the dead of the _Tecumseh_, and he copied all out, includingthis doubtful one. He thought that he had done wrong, and therefore toldme, so that if any particular inquiries were ever made I might know whatto say."
"Are there many mistakes in these records?"
"A STRANGE FEELING PASSED OVER BRANDON. HE STEPPEDFORWARD."]
"I dare say there are a good many in the list for 1846. There was somuc
h confusion that names got changed, and people died whose names couldonly be conjectured by knowing who had recovered. As some of those thatrecovered or had not been sick slipped away secretly, of course therewas inaccuracy."
Brandon had nothing more to ask. He thanked the clerk and departed.
There was a faint hope, then, that Frank might yet be alive. On his wayto Quebec he decided what to do. As soon as he arrived he inserted anadvertisement in the chief papers to the following effect:
NOTICE:
Information of any one of the names of "BRANDON," who came out in theship _Tecumseh_ in 1846 from Liverpool to Quebec, is earnestly desiredby friends of the family. A liberal reward will be given to any one whocan give the above information. Apply to:
Henry Peters, 22 Place d'Armes.
Brandon waited in Quebec six weeks without any results. He then went toMontreal and inserted the same notice in the papers there, and in othertowns in Canada, giving his Montreal address. After waiting five or sixweeks in Montreal he went to Toronto, and advertised again, giving hisnew address. He waited here for some time, till at length the month ofNovember began to draw to a close. Not yet despondent, he began to forma plan for advertising in every city of the United States.
Meanwhile he had received many communications, all of which, however,were made with the vague hope of getting a reward. None were at allreliable. At length he thought that it was useless to wait any longer inCanada, and concluded to go to New York as a centre of action.
He arrived in New York at the end of December, and immediately began toinsert his notices in all parts of the country, giving his address atthe Astor House.
One day, as he came in from the street, he was informed that there wassome one in his room who wished to see him. He went up calmly, thinkingthat it was some new person with intelligence.
On entering the room he saw a man standing by the window, in hisshirt-sleeves, dressed in coarse clothes. The man was very tall,broad-shouldered, with large, Roman features, and heavy beard andmustache. His face was marked by profound dejection; he looked like onewhose whole life had been one long misfortune. Louis Brandon had neverseen any face which bore so deep an impress of suffering.
The stranger turned as he came in and looked at him with his sad eyesearnestly.
"Sir," said he, in a voice which thrilled through Brandon, "are youHenry Peters?"
A strange feeling passed over Brandon. He stepped forward.
"Frank!" he cried, in a broken voice.
"Merciful Heavens!" cried the other. "Have you too come up from thedead? Louis!"
In this meeting between the two brothers, after so many eventful yearsof separation, each had much to tell. Each had a story so marvelousthat the other might have doubted it, had not the marvels of his ownexperience been equally great. Frank's story, however, is the only onethat the reader will care to hear, and that must be reserved for anotherchapter.